


The Blood of Patriots

by antigrav_vector



Series: (R)BB fics - all pairings [12]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel's What If comics
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Space, Canon Crossover, Crossover, F/M, First Dates, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mission Fic, Missions Gone Wrong, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations, Pre-Poly, Requited Love, Starting Over, Undercover Missions, chain of command, moral and ethical considerations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-09 00:19:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 23,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11092968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antigrav_vector/pseuds/antigrav_vector
Summary: Steve and Bucky are sent on a mission to rendezvous with a mysterious agent of Director Fury's, and bring her back safely. She's got critical information about just what's been going on behind enemy lines to make the Axis war effort so strong, even out in space. In the process of carrying out their mission, they happen to end up with a pair of crushes on said agent big enough to be visible from the Moon.There's no time to sort that out, though. What Fury hears in their report has him sending them right back out again, this time with the goal of finding and either capturing or destroying the mysterious artifact that is in German hands.They succeed, but that has some big consequences for all three of them...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ellebeesknees](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ellebeesknees).



> First and foremost: thanks go out to my betas calihart and dapperanachronism, and to tisfan who traded fics with me for a scene when we both got stuck.
> 
> Also to the capRBB slack chat, who offered advice in various forms and are generally amazing.
> 
> As to fic. This is roughly set in a bastardised version of the universe as presented in _What If? Vol 1 issue 14_ I'd definitely recommend reading it because it's wonderfully cracky and I love it. [marvel wikia link](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/What_If%3F_Vol_1_14)
> 
> For those concerned with such things, the smut is contained only in the last two chapters prior to the epilogue (meaning ch18 and ch19).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this and all subsequent chapters, horizontal rules indicate POV switches.

The eternal cycle of hurry-up-and-wait that all Armed Forces personnel the world over had ever experienced definitely extended to space as well, Bucky thought to himself with a grimace. Most of the Commandos were sitting at their usual table in the mess hall and playing poker. He couldn't seem to settle long enough to join in, though. Some instinct he couldn't seem to name was driving him to pace restlessly, a kind of nervous energy running through him.

Gabe and Morita had ribbed him about it until he'd snapped at them and left the room for a few minutes.

Embarrassed, he hadn't apologised when he'd come back in, and neither had they, content to let it be forgotten. Bucky had fetched up against one end of the large Plasteel viewing window that took up most of the outer wall of the large space. It granted them a fantastic view of Earth, lit up by the sun from behind the space station that housed the joint SSR and Army base in the sector. One of the smaller outposts was just about visible in the distance.

"Hey Sarge," Dumdum called out to him, "ain't ya gonna enjoy your downtime at all? You've already wasted most of the day cycle staring out that window."

"I'd prefer to," he grumbled in reply, "but something's got me on edge."

"What?" Monty put in.

Bucky huffed at him. "If I knew that I could do somethin' about it."

On cue, Steve walked into the room, then, and all attention immediately shifted to him, rather than Bucky.

"Cap?" Morita was the first to speak up, "you look almost as itchy as the sarge."

Steve gave them a slightly rueful smirk. "Well, Director Fury finally told me what he's been making us cool our heels for, and it's a doozy. Barnes, you're with me. We have a briefing in fifteen. The rest of you are on call until Fury assigns you whatever he's got in mind. He hinted that he had some HYDRA installation for you to blow up."

Dernier all but lit up at that, as though he could already see the explosions he was planning to set off. The others quickly put away the cards and chips and stood, clearly eager to be back in the field, for all that it had been less than a week since their last mission.

Bucky pushed off the wall where he'd been leaning his shoulders and back. "Fine by me. I need somethin' interesting to do or I'll go off the deep end."

Steve laughed and threw an arm around his shoulders as soon as Bucky was within range, hauling him back out of the room. "Well, something tells me you'll get your wish. Come on, Buck, we've got things to do."

Some three hours later he and Steve were en route to the remotest outpost maintained by the Allies on the dawnside of the sector. Beyond it lay disputed space, and the Axis-controlled sectors.

Director Fury had been blunt and concise as usual in his briefing.

_I need you two yahoos ta get to my agent at the Axis fortified position three sectors dawnward[1]. Extract her and escort her back here. Priority black. You lose her, don't bother comin' back._

Asking how they'd recognise this agent Fury wanted them to retrieve hadn't gotten them far. Apparently she would be the one to come to _them_ and nevermind how much harder that made their mission. The area they were going to be travelling through to get to her was also one of the most heavily fortified above the ecliptic and he'd heard rumours that there was some sort of crazy research taking place in the bases there. Said rumours were, of course, highly classified, and he'd only heard anything about it because Steve was cleared to know pretty much anything at any level.

And that, really, was why it surprised him that Fury wouldn't give them a name or a description. He just called this dame "Agent 13" and refused to elaborate.

Bucky thought her name alone sounded a little ominous.

When he mentioned the thought to Steve, who was taking his shift flying their little two-man craft, his friend just laughed. "You're being ridiculous, Buck," Steve told him. "If anything, it means she's bad luck for her enemies."

"We don't even know what she looks like," he grumbled.

"Doesn't matter," Steve replied easily. "There aren't a lot of women in these sectors to start with."

Damn the man, he had a point. Bucky scowled at him. "All the more reason to be suspicious of any we find," he countered. "And we're just as recognizable to the Axis as we are to friendlies, thanks to your ridiculous exo suit paintjob."

A short silence fell and dragged out on the heels of that comment.

"You know, Buck, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous."

Stunned, Bucky didn't answer immediately. "What?" he choked out after a beat.

"You are," Steve was convinced, now, and nothing Bucky said was ever going to change his mind.

God damn it.

"Believe what you want," he grumbled, "but I ain't jealous, ya lunkhead."

"You're jealous," Steve insisted. "But why?"

"You tryin'a psychoanalyse me, punk?"

"It ain't like you to be jealous over nothin'," Steve justified his statement, his very proper 'official' accent slipped a little, back into the broader vowels he and Bucky had grown up with. "You think I'm goin'ta run off with this dame or somethin'?"

Bucky stubbornly said nothing.

Steve turned away from the control panels and heads-up display to raise an eyebrow at him. "You do, don't you."

That was actually about the farthest thing from his mind right now -- but only because he was fighting to keep it that way. Bucky shrugged. "You've shown a lot more interest in this Agent 13 than you ever have in anyone else of the feminine persuasion."

"So have you, jerk," his best friend shot back. "I'm thinkin' maybe I should be the one gettin' jealous, here. Not that there's anything goin' on to make me jealous over."

Bucky dismissed the hint of bitterness he'd thought he heard in that last sentence. He had to have imagined that. "Exactly. Ain't nothin' for you to be jealous about. I don't want you gettin' your heart broken over this dame. You'd be even more liable to pull some dumbass stunt and get yourself killed, after that."

Steve huffed at him, giving him an irritated glare, and another silence fell between them.

Bucky didn't bother breaking it. 

\------

[1] Dawnward is a reference to the way sunlight hits the planet. Space doesn't have directions like east and west, but they can use things like the relative positions of the sun and planet to orient themselves. In this instance, dawnward would mean toward the dawnside terminator, so, roughly west relative to the earth's surface. In the case of our solar system magnetic north roughly equates to 'up', so positions referred to as 'above the ecliptic', are above the plane that connects the equator and the sun. I.e. they are considered to be in the skies 'above' the earth's northern hemisphere. [WIKIPEDIA LINK](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Terminator_\(solar\)) to more info on the topic.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve wasn't sure what to think about the conversation he'd just had with Bucky. He let the silence draw out, wondering whether his best friend would speak up again or just let the topic hang in the air between them, ignored but sure as hell not forgotten.

After a few minutes, it was clear Bucky didn't want to talk about it anymore.

Steve didn't either, really. He wanted to try to think it over a bit, not that he needed a distraction to keep him preoccupied in enemy territory, but he couldn't set this aside so easily.

He cared about Bucky. More than he should, by rights, even for a best friend. Couldn't say a word about it, though. Homosexuality wasn't frowned on nearly so much in space as it was down on the surface, where there were a lot more dames around to help a man scratch his itches. If you made it into the space corps, you took your comfort where you could get it. So, no, that wasn't what was holding him back.

There were rules. Fraternization within ones' own company was the kind of offense that could get you a ticket home without even a hearing, and that was the _last_ thing he wanted happening to Bucky. He himself, as the de facto leader of the Howling Commandos and a popular Allied propaganda figure. They couldn't afford to lose him, or they'd see enough of a drop in morale to potentially cause mutinies throughout the space corps.

But Bucky? Bucky would be expendable in their eyes. And getting sent home with a blue ticket might as well be a death sentence, with the political and social climate as it was, back home. Bucky wouldn't be able to find a job or a place to stay easily. He'd be shunned and isolated.

Steve winced but managed to keep it from showing on his face too obviously. If Bucky got a blue ticket, he might easily be attacked. There had been reports of lynchings before. And, sure, Buck could take care of himself, but all it took was one mistake.

At least out here, Steve and the Commandos could watch his back.

Feeling reassured that he'd made the right decision, Steve refocused on navigation. They were about to leave disputed territory and enter Axis-controlled space, and that meant paying close attention to their surroundings. They needed to ensure they weren't seen or scanned.

* * *

They'd been instructed to meet their contact at one of the smaller outposts for travelling military personnel. Neither of them had been exactly happy about it, but they'd exchanged their usual uniforms for something that would blend in better. Fury had provided them with the uniforms of a pair of minor officers and forged marching orders.

Those marching orders had gained them access to the station without a firefight, so Steve could forgive the near-mortal insult of being asked to set aside his usual patriotic colors to take on the guise of an enemy he loathed. This kind of thinking was why he usually wasn't tapped for anything that required subtlety, and he could freely admit it.

Bucky wasn't much better at it, either. Which had been why the two of them had been surprised to get this particular assignment from Fury.

When asked, the Director had chomped on his ever present cheroot and growled, _Ya better not get yer asses caught and get my agent killed or my intel captured. I picked you two yahoos 'cause yer my best chance of getting her out of there if anything goes wrong. My infiltration teams are better at blending in than fighting._

In other words, they were to do as they were told and accept quarters and whatever else was offered, and then meet their contact at the station's small bar during the night cycle.

Steve made a face; he'd have to speak _German_. Ugh.

Bucky caught the expression and gave him a sardonic look. "Aw, c'mon, Cap," he teased, "I'm sure you'll live."

"It's not me I'm concerned about," he replied.

"If this dame is half as good as Fury thinks she is, she'll be fine." Bucky grinned. "I've gotta say, I'm intrigued."

"You sure I don't need to be jealous?" Steve asked mildly, and watched his friend go slightly pink. Laughing, he added, "you've been daydreaming about her some more. It's obvious."

"Why do I put up with ya," Bucky grumbled.

Settling the jacket of his uniform more firmly on his shoulders and doing up the buttons, Steve smirked at him. "It's okay, Buck, I know ya love me."

Bucky muttered something under his breath and reddened a little more, then straightened, clearing his throat, and crammed his uniform cap on his head.

Steve gave him an unabashed once-over and nodded. "Lookin' good, Buck."

"Aww, knock it off, Rogers." Bucky drew a deep breath and visibly centered himself, forcing his nerves and embarrassment aside. "We'd better get goin'."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any text that appears in this chapter or any subsequent ones and is in < xxx > is spoken in German by the characters but written in English for convenience.

A few hours later, their uniforms and travel papers had secured them a shared room in the visiting officers quarters and a pair of vouchers each for the tiny bar and the commissary. Their rendezvous with Agent 13 was set for later that evening, so Steve debated for a moment.

"Think we should explore the station and keep our cover up or stay here so we're less noticeable?" Bucky asked him.

Steve shrugged. "I was about to ask you the same thing. I'd say we should walk around enough to get the layout down and then lay low until our rendezvous."

Straightening his jacket unnecessarily, Bucky nodded. "Sounds reasonable to me." 

They wandered the outpost, making note of the areas that they could and couldn't access, as they went. Their covers only had the lowest ranks that still counted among the commissioned officers, so many of the areas where logistics and such operations were housed were off limits to them.

They took mental notes on what they saw for Fury, and made their way back to their quarters once they'd scouted out what they could without drawing attention. Once they were safely back in their assigned quarters, Bucky immediately stripped off the outer layers of his borrowed uniform and hung them up in the tiny excuse for a closet that they had to share between them. Steve followed suit once Bucky had gotten himself comfortable in his chair, sprawled lazily in it.

The whole room was about four meters by three, and somehow contrived to contain two beds, two desks with chairs and lamps, said closet, and two footlockers. There wasn't much space to spare, even if the two occupants of the room were friendly with one another. The dull grey of the walls didn't help, either. They made Steve's fingers itch for pencil and paper, or paints. Anything to liven it up a little.

Bucky caught his eyes and smirked at him. "Bet you're tempted to scrawl all over these walls," he quipped.

Steve made a face at his friend. "That's cheating," he shot back. "And you're a fine one to talk, with the way you plastered your bunk with all those pin-ups."

With a chuckle, Bucky let himself slump down a bit farther in his chair. "Fine, fine. Still thinkin' about this dame we're meetin' tonight?"

He hadn't been, but Steve knew denying it would only convince Bucky his assumption had been correct. "What's it to you, jerk?"

Bucky stood and took the two steps over to him, easily inserting himself into Steve's personal space. "I don't like you obsessing over her."

The action felt like an overture, and Steve wanted to take it. Wanted everything that was on offer. But he didn't dare take it. "Buck, you know we shouldn't," he said quietly. "We've talked about this once before."

"Well, maybe I've changed my mind, with the way you're rubbing this broad in my face."

"Bucky, no, we can't. We _can't_. I don't want you to have to worry about hiding it. You know we won't want to. We're not good at hiding anything." Steve knew the pain in his voice would ring clear. Bucky had known him for years. Hell, decades.

A frustrated growl resonated in Bucky's chest and he ran his hands roughly through his hair. "Much more'a this," he gritted out, "and I won't care."

Steve pulled his friend in close, plastering them chest-to-chest. "Let's get through this mission, first. We can talk about this more once we're back on base," he suggested, voice low, as he took comfort in having Bucky there to hold. "You know I don't mean to tease or make you jealous. 'Til the end of the line, right? I'd never toss you aside for a dame."

Bucky's arms went around his waist, pulling him in that little bit farther.

The room stayed silent.

* * *

Much later that day cycle, Bucky watched his friend carefully shave and wash his face in the shared facilities down the hallway from their shared bunk. It still caught him off guard every so often just how much Steve had changed, for all that his basic features were the same. He still had the same bright blue eyes. The same floppy swoosh of blond hair that never seemed to quite behave as he wanted. The same blinding smile and deft hand with a pencil.

The extra pounds of muscle, though. Those made a massive difference. Steve had been rail skinny before the serum, tall as a beanpole, and with about the same amount of muscle. Now... well. Now he had the most ridiculous broad shoulders that made everyone -- including Bucky -- want to run their hands over them, and a trim waist that drew the eye right to his ass and legs.

Bucky had caught a lot of women -- and no few men -- staring at Steve like they wanted to eat him up with a spoon. Steve gave them about the same amount of attention as he would a door or table, though, much to Bucky's amusement. Polite, but distant, and careful not to overexert his new strength and break them accidentally. 

Of course, it didn't help that, now that he had been transformed by Erskine, it seemed to be a universal truth that Steve could and would make any uniform look amazing. It didn't seem to matter that he was currently pulling back on the blue-grey coat that marked the officers of the German Raumluftwaffe, its red gorget patches standing out starkly against the subdued color[2]. 

He forced his eyes away from Steve's deft hands, which were jumping nimbly down the slightly ridiculous double column of buttons on his uniform jacket. "Ready to go, punk?"

"As I'll ever be." Steve gave him a crooked attempt at a smile.

It looked brittle, like it was about to crack and fall off his face. Bucky clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, then, Leutnant[3]," he said, steering Steve toward the door. "Let's go have a drink."

* * *

The bar, located near the center of the outpost beside the commissary, was a tiny cramped little space, but it somehow managed to be cozy rather than claustrophobic. A line of booths ran along two walls, and about six tables for four stood in the open space in front of the bar itself. Three of the six tables were occupied, the men there chatting quietly and providing the room with a comfortable murmur of sound that would serve as background noise for them to blend into. All but two of the booths were empty, as yet.

Bucky surveyed the place more carefully. It looked reasonably clean, too. Not a bad watering hole, really, even if it did belong to the enemy. He plastered on a smile and led the way in, sauntering up to the bar and presenting his voucher to the man behind it. "<A Schnapps[4], please,>" he requested, naming something with enough alcohol content to count as a real drink, but not so much as to imply he wanted to get drunk.

The bartender nodded politely, and set to work pouring the drink without a word.

Steve stepped up beside him and showed his own voucher when the bartender slid Bucky's glass over to him. "<I'd like the same.>"

By the time Steve had his drink, Bucky had claimed a corner booth, and was waiting for Steve to join him.

They sat in comfortable silence for a minute, waiting. Steve looked a bit on edge, and that just wouldn't do. They needed to act natural. This called for a distraction. "<So what're you planning for your next sketch?>"

Steve gave him a look that said he knew exactly what Bucky was trying to do, and was simultaneously annoyed and grateful. "<I hadn't decided yet. I might try an architecture study.>"

"<Thought you were more about people and life drawing.>"

"<Not always,>" Steve smirked at him. "<A little variety is a good thing.>"

Bucky let him ramble about building styles and how the design of space outposts had evolved in the ten or so years they had been in use, and spent the time nodding along agreeably while he kept an eye on the bar and its doors. Steve had to know what he was doing, but didn't seem to care. If anything, Bucky suspected, his fearless leader was grateful for the neutral topic.

Every now and then Bucky interjected a question into the discussion, though he didn't pay much attention to what he was asking or what Steve was answering.

After some five minutes, their patience was rewarded.

Bucky couldn't help but stare; the dame that walked into the bar was a goddamn knock-out. Legs that seemed to go on for miles, a wine red dress that looked painted on, and curves like Bucky had only ever seen on a the roads winding through the Swiss mountain passes during his short stint as an infantryman.

Steve glanced over a beat later, apparently clued in by Bucky's expression, and went silent.

Hell, the whole bar had.

\------  
[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ranks_and_insignia_of_the_Luftwaffe_(1935%E2%80%9345)  
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ranks_and_insignia_of_the_Luftwaffe_(1935%E2%80%9345)#/media/File:Luftwaffe_collar_tabs_Leutnant_3D.svg

[3] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leutnant

[4] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schnapps


	4. Chapter 4

Swallowing hard, Steve forced himself not to say a word, for fear that it would come out as a harsh croak or he'd forget all his German lessons. 

Of course, the moment the dame -- Steve was sure this had to be the Agent 13 they were intended to meet -- took a step forward toward the bar, the tableau broke, shattering into chaos. Three men jumped up from their tables to offer her drinks, and try to lure her in to sit with them, clearly angling for a lot more than conversation.

Would it be more conspicuous to hold back or go up to her, himself?

He glanced at Bucky, who looked transfixed. Yeah, his friend was going nowhere fast and needed time to find his footing. This was up to him to resolve, for better or worse, and knowing just how bad he was at talking to dames, Steve suspected it would be 'worse'. Stifling his groan, Steve stood and slowly crossed the floor to the bar, where a knot of men had formed around the dame, all of them making offers and talking over one another in their attempts to gain her attention. Several more of the men who'd been sitting at the tables had joined the growing throng.

Steve held back for a moment, then said mildly, pitching his voice to carry. "<You know, if you keep yelling over one another, she won't have a chance to make a choice.>"

Everyone in the room looked at him. Most of the men looked affronted -- all save the bartender, who just had an amused smirk on his face that made Steve suspect he usually ended up winning over the dames -- but Steve stopped paying attention to them the moment the dame's eyes met his.

She smiled. "<It's nice to know that at least one man out here remembers what manners are.>"

The statement got a growl out of one of the men clustered around her. "<I'll show you manners, my dear,>" he replied, putting a rather proprietary hand on her waist, "<just give me a chance.>"

One of the others took offense to the action, and pulled him away from the group, yelling at him about getting them in trouble if he continued harassing the lady. Steve had to approve of the sentiment, for all that these were their enemies. It was always better to be facing off against an honorable opponent.

Unfortunately, the second guy's valiant attempt to get the handsy guy to behave only halfway worked. The first guy pulled free, making his friend stumble into one of the other men clustered close, and sending his elbow right into the face of a fourth.

Steve wanted to wince. There was an instant of shocked silence, and then fists started flying. The dame tried to calm things down, but her voice went unheard in the shouting. It was clearly time to step in. Steve dodged one clumsy punch, and caught another on his shoulder as he got his arm around the dame and did what he could to keep her out of harm's way.

He'd just about managed it, when one of the brawlers finally realised what he was doing. That had the effect of their contact getting free, and Bucky diving in to help him.

The bartender, meantime, had called for help, himself. A squad of MPs hurried into the room and started grabbing people, forcibly separating them. That was horrible for them, Steve bit back the urge to swear a blue streak, because their covers were about to be blown to bits. Their forged orders had gotten them onto the station, but wouldn't hold up to being written up on disciplinary charges or anything like that. 

One of the MPs stepped up to him, looking him up and down. "<You're new. Your name and rank?>"

Straightening to attention, Steve pretended worse bruises than he had. "<Leutnant Rother, sir. Traveling to my new posting.>"

The MP made a note in his little booklet. "<What happened here?>"

Apparently here standard procedure was to get everyone's story on what had happened. Steve hadn't been aware of that. Nodding over to where their contact stood, the collar of her dress torn and clearly angry about it, speaking to one of the other MPs, Steve shrugged. "<Well, sir, the lovely lady -- I'm afraid I don't know her name -- came in looking for a drink, and the rest of those louts mobbed her as soon as she got to the bar. Now, I'm not one to stand in the way of someone having a good time, but there are limits.>" Steve nodded at the handsy guy, "<I only arrived here today, so I haven't had the pleasure of formally meeting any of these officers, but I do know one thing. Putting your hands on a lady without her permission is wrong. One of the other men here, he felt that way, too. Tried to step in. A few hits landed by accident, though, and suddenly everyone was fighting. All I tried to do was to get the lady out of the mob.>"

"<I see. Thank you. We will contact you if your testimony is needed.>" The MP nodded, and moved on. 

Steve stepped over to Bucky, who had carefully kept out of the fray, but was also being asked to give a report on what had taken place, and waited plotely for the MP to finish speaking to his friend. When the MP stepped away, Steve put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "<I think I've had enough excitement for tonight,>" he said, making sure his voice wasn't loud but carried through the room, "<let's go get a bite to eat and then get some rest.>"

Bucky shook his head. "<One thing to do first.>"

He walked over to their contact and offered her his hand. "<I want to apologise on behalf of my fellow officers for the behavior you've seen tonight,>" he said, ignoring the way the handsy guy growled at him in response to the words. "<Will you allow me to buy you a coffee?>"

A sharp stab of the jealousy he didn't feel went through Steve when she smiled at him. Maybe Bucky had a point after all. Knowing what he wanted but not getting to have it was painful on a level he hadn't expected, when he was presented with a spectacle like this.

After considering the offer for a beat, she nodded. "<Very well. Your valiant friend can join us too, if he wishes.>" 

"<That's generous of you, ma'am.>" Bucky offered her his arm with a slight bow, and squired her out of the room. Steve followed, caught between the conflicting bemusement, jealousy and admiration he felt.

Worse, though, he found himself attracted to their contact, and if that wasn't confusing as hell, he didn't know what was.


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky waited until they were seated at a table in a quiet corner of the commissary to break his silence on the state of their mission. "<Damn it,>" he muttered, sticking to German so as not to draw them any more attention, "<we might as well be made, now. We'd better drink our coffees and get moving.>" He paused, then added, "<Oh, and what's your name? I don't mind calling you Beautiful, but...>"

He got a hint of a smirk in response to the flirtation. "<I'm Edith Müller.>"

"<Pleasure, Ms. Müller.>"

Maybe if Steve didn't want him, he reflected as they sipped at their coffees and Steve attempted to make conversation with Ms. Müller, he should try dating again. It had been a while.

It would properly break his heart to actually give up on having Steve, but so would continuing as he was and getting turned down every time he asked.

This Agent 13, Ms. Müller as she was calling herself, was a damned knock out of a dame, and definitely worth courting. He'd have to consider the idea more thoroughly once they were safely back in friendly territory. He'd probably also have to work through whatever he felt for Steve, and talk to the lunkhead about it, which was liable to end in blows, tears, or maybe both. After all, on the one hand, loving Steve was a habit he was pretty sure he would never be able to break, what with how deep it ran. His life and Steve's had been intertwined for far too long for either of them to be able to pull away without leaving behind half of themselves.

Just to make matters more complicated and confusing, Bucky could tell that Steve was attracted to her, himself. That left Bucky questioning everything about the situation. He'd known for a long time that Steve was just as attracted to men as women. He'd known that fact about himself for even longer, and it had been a soruce of comfort to him over the course of their long friendship that he wasn't alone in the desires he felt. That he wasn't an anomaly or wrong in the head somehow. But why did it have to come up now that they were in the worst possible situation for it? Why this woman in particular? Why did they both have to go tumbling head over heels for her so easily? Why? And what were they going to do about it? If he went with her, Steve would be hurt, possibly irreparably. If he let Steve have her, Bucky knew, he'd likely pine after the both of them. And, no matter which of them she chose, there would be the complication of their respective jobs. All three of them were in the kinds of positions that required nerves of steel and meant risking their lives for each mission they accepted. If, God forbid, anything ever happened to either of the two in the relationship, all three of them would likely end up emotionally shattered.

The whole mess seemed impossible to resolve. And, granted, it assumed that Ms. Müller was at all interested in either of them.

Bucky found himself hoping that she wasn't.

All their lives would be a lot simpler that way.

It caught him slightly off guard when Ms. Müller set aside her cup and turned to him. "<Where are you bunking, Leutnant?>" She asked, with a sexy burr in her voice that sent a shudder down his spine.

Jesus. Bucky bit at his lip. He had to clear his throat before he could get the words out to reply. "<It's not far. Sector five, corridor two, second door on the left.>"

Ms. Müller nodded and stood. "<Meet me there in five minutes.>"

Steve stared after her as she turned on her heel and sauntered out of the room.

The ancient cook, the only person manning the commissary registers at this time of evening, gave Bucky an encouraging grin. "<Now that's a dame that makes me wish I was about forty years younger. Don't you disappoint her!>"

Bucky buried his face in his hands, trying to ignore the way the back of his neck and his ears went red. Steve laughed at him, enjoying Bucky's embarrassment. "<Mr. Lee is right, buddy. Don't screw this up.>"

"<Shut up. And don't bother coming back to our bunk for at least an hour,>" he replied, hoping like hell Steve understood the exact opposite. Throwing a halfhearted punch at his best friend's shoulder for show, Bucky gathered up his empty cup and Ms. Müller's, and put them away.

* * *

Steve watched them leave and shook his head at Bucky. His best friend used to be suave and good with women. What had happened?

Maybe, he speculated as he his cup and tray away, Bucky had stopped trying. Had decided on him. Steve wanted to wince. It made a certain amount of sense that Bucky might not put as much effort into his flirtations if he'd picked out the person he wanted to be with.

There would be time later to untangle that conflicting mess of emotions and regulations, though. For now they needed to focus on their escape.

Strolling out of the commissary with a nod to the cook, he took the corridor that led away from the quarters he and Bucky had been assigned. Keeping up appearances was important. The longer they could avoid getting shot at, the better. The skin between his shoulderblades itched fiercely despite his best efforts, and he resisted the urge to lengthen his stride or look like he was hurrying to get anywhere. 

He took the first perpendicular side corridor he came to, aiming to circle around to their quarters the long way. Before he got there, Bucky and Agent 13 caught his attention from a corner of the corridor with low visibility. "<Hsst, Rothen, come here,>" Bucky said, his tone only just high enough to carry to Steve.

"<We get our marching orders already?>" He asked, spotting the pair of packed duffels they'd come in with at Bucky's feet.

"<We did. Come on, we'd better get going. Ms. Müller would you do us the honor of keeping us company until we depart?>"

Agent 13 smiled at him, looking for all the world like she'd missed out on a fun night and was ruing the fact. "<Certainly.>"

Bucky picked up one duffel and handed it to him. "<Here. I'm not carrying your stuff. I swear it's like you carry around a huge chunk of metal in there instead of your uniforms.>"

Steve huffed at him and turned to lead the way toward the docking stations, wondering just how much of Agent 13's disappointment was genuine. "<Oh, shut up. Yours is no lighter.>"

It didn't take them long to get through to their skimmer. Fury's plan had included a notice on their travel orders that they might be called on to depart the same day cycle, so their single forged set of orders was enough to get them back to their skimmer.

Agent 13 presented travel orders of her own, and then they were walking down the access corridor to the small docking hatch that held the craft they'd arrived in. If the skin between his shoulderblades had itched before, now Steve was convinced it was trying to up and crawl right off his body. Bucky looked tense, too, though it thankfully only showed to someone who knew him well.

As they boarded the skimmer, they got the first hints that the Axis had realised something was wrong with their identities.

"Sarge," Steve suggested as he settled himself in the pilot's seat, "get on the guns. This might turn ugly."

Sounding relieved to be speaking English again, Bucky replied, "Two steps ahead of you. Agent, what's your preference?"

She sniffed at him. "I'm better at hand-to-hand combat, but I know how a laser pistol works."

"Good. We got two guns. You get the other one."


	6. Chapter 6

They got clear of the outpost without getting stopped, but that was as far as their luck ran. By the time Steve had gotten them a couple of klicks away, the outpost's guns were warming up. Warnings began ringing through the cabin of their little ship, and Steve swore.

Bucky took the opportunity to fire at said gun turrets before they were ready, causing as much damage as he could in the process. His first shot hit a power conduit and caused a sizable explosion, making him laugh and jeer at the Krauts, for all that they wouldn't hear him.

After his second shot, which missed slightly but was enough to damage the fire control system of another gun, Agent 13 followed his lead and began firing, herself. "We've got company," she called down to Steve, "get us out of here!"

"Working on it," Steve yelled back as he threw their little craft into a roll and a 'dive' relative to their trajectory, to evade the first few shots of return fire, "Fury didn't give us the fastest ship, and she's meant for two!"

Bucky checked the various readouts in the relatively underpowered gun turret he was using, and groaned. "Two squads to starboard; four o'clock, high."

"One squad to port," Agent 13 added, "two o'clock low."

"Not exactly fair odds," Steve quipped as he sent the skimmer back 'up', after their dive. The squad nearest to them, on Bucky's side of their ship, opened fire the moment they noted the maneuver. 

Bucky took advantage of the change in angle to line up his next shot, and gently squeezed the trigger. He knew this gun better than his own sidearm, and he was damned glad of that at times like this. He knew exactly where the trigger would break, and how hard the recoil of the guns would make the small ship shudder in reaction to each shot. He knew how quickly the shots charged, and how long it took the gun to cool.

Watching the bolt of energy streak through space and connect solidly with the engine of one of the fighters on their tail was satisfying as anything.

One down, eleven to go.

Agent 13 was firing at any of the six fighters in 'her' squad that left her an opening, though she missed more than half the time. The shots that missed were effective, too, though, forcing the squad to break formation. Bucky could tell she'd be great at closer-ranges, but that was a theory he'd have to wait to test.

Refocusing with a slightly fey smile on his face, Bucky picked out his next target, and waited. Patience was the hardest part of warfare to master. Steve never had.

The skimmer banked hard to port and Bucky felt the smile pull wider as his target came neatly into his sights. He fired, and another fighter was limping back to the outpost. A second fighter blundered directly into his sight, and Bucky jumped on the opportunity, firing again the moment the guns had cooled enough. Three down.

Off to his right, Agent 13 growled curses under her breath. "You're not getting away," she told them, a vicious note of vindictive anger in her voice.

Bucky heard another shot fire, and saw an explosion in his peripheral vision. Agent 13 cheered, and he grinned. "Nice shooting. How you doin up there, Cap?"

Steve grunted. "Another hour and a half to reach the disputed sectors, at top speed," he replied throwing them into another sharply banked turn to avoid the return fire coming at them, "and this thing flies like a barge. I'm counting on you to keep them off us!"

"Sergeant," Agent 13 put in, "what are their weak points?"

Bucky considered that as he watched the remaining fighters for an opening. "In order, engines, fuel tanks, and cockpit canopy," he listed, "but those require precision to hit at this range."

"So use your fire to force them into one another," she replied.

Steve laughed. "I like that plan."

"You would," Bucky replied, "but lucky for you, I do too. Alright, let's do it. Best time for that would be when they try to get back in formation after an evasive maneuver."

"I'll scatter them," she suggested, "you send them back."

"Give 'em your best shot."

Bucky waited as she lined up the shot, then carefully picked his moment. At this range, he would have to time his shot perfectly down to the millisecond for this to work.

His first shot went wide as Steve sent the skimmer climbing, slowing their headlong pace to bring the fighters into closer range. His second hit its mark, though. It went streaking past the fighter at the center of the group, calculated to just barely miss him. The pilot reacted reflexively, jerking at his controls and evading. Or, rather, trying to. The maneuver he picked sent him straight into the path of one of his squadmates, and they collided, creating a spectacular explosion.

Five down.

Two more peeled off from the rest and turned back, clearly aiming to pull any survivors out of the wreckage, if possible. Bucky left them to it. If those two managed to catch up afterwards, then he would make that his problem. For now, he needed to deal with the remaining five, and the three from Agent 13's squad that were still in pursuit.

"Do that again," he called to her. "We're not done yet."

Without a word, she took the shot.

This time, Bucky was ready. He waited until the fighters scattered, and then took advantage of the disarray they were in to repeat their previous success. As he watched the fighters reform, more slowly this time, he added, "Back to just shooting them! They'll be expecting it if we try a third time."

The next forty five minutes blurred action and reaction into an indistinguishable mess. Bucky lost track of how many ineffectual shots he and his opponents exchanged, and how many times Steve saved their asses with his clever dodges and seeming instinct for where the next shots would fall. Despite the care they took, their skimmer took a number of hard hits, leaving them limping through space rather than flying, by the time the Germans finally broke off their attack in the face of the Allied defenses on the far side of the disputed sectors.


	7. Chapter 7

As Steve carefully brought their skimmer alongside the SHIELD HQ, Bucky extricated himself from the gun turret with a quiet groan. His hands cramped when he tried to open them fully, a bit too accustomed to being wrapped around the controls for the gun he'd been using, and he hissed. 

Agent 13 appeared next to him, and picked up one of his hands in hers. "Don't you do stretches?" She asked, gently pressing at the muscles in his palm.

Surprised, Bucky allowed the touch. "Well, sure, when there's time beforehand. Or on long stake outs. This was a bit unexpected."

She made a vague sound of agreement, and shrugged. "Do them now, in that case."

"Sarge," Steve put in, "Fury's calling for a debrief as soon as we dock."

"How pissed off is he?"

"Hard to tell," Steve replied. "So we might get through this without too much yelling."

Agent 13 rolled her eyes and pushed past Bucky to enter the craft's tiny cockpit. "So what do I call you?" She asked. "Those names you gave the MPs were false, if I'm any judge."

Bucky stayed where he was, knowing that the cockpit wouldn't be big enough for him to join them. "Are we exchanging real names," he prompted her, " 'cause something tells me you ain't called Edith, either."

That quip got him a raised eyebrow. "We can, if you wish," she conceded, "but I'll thank you to remember that I can take care of myself, if we meet again. There is no need for you to play the white knight to my damsel. I'm not one."

"If your shooting is any indication, I could be persuaded that you might be right," Steve replied and turned briefly to catch her eyes before he went back to docking their skimmer. "But if you are in trouble, I will not stand by and watch. I stand by my friends."

She gave him a startled look. "Friends, is it?"

Steve's face twisted slightly under the influence of the wry smirk that graced his lips. "You took one look at us and put yourself on the line to help us get out of there. Aren't those the actions of a friend?"

"You trust too easily," Agent 13 told him.

Bucky laughed at Steve's expression of annoyance. "I've been tellin' him that for years," he put in. "Can't say I disagree with him on this one, though. You're one of Fury's agents, and both good enough and gutsy enough to go on the missions he wouldn't give to anyone junior. That makes you reasonably trustworthy from the start, from our perspective." He grinned at her expression of consternation. "Hell, he as much as told us that if we lost you, we should take a long walk off a short pier."

"Alright," she gave in, shaking her head at him in mock disappointment. "My friends call me Peggy."

"Bucky." He replied in kind. "And the lunkhead there is Steve."

"Something tells me the two of you are trouble," Peggy told him, giving him a lingering once-over from head to toe.

"More often than we'd prefer," Steve agreed. "Usually the trouble finds us, though."

Bucky snorted. "That's the fattest lie I've heard in a long time, punk." He turned to their new friend. "Don't listen'ta him," he told Peggy, "he picks fights and then the rest of us have to win them for him."

"I think I'll decide for myself who I believe, thanks," Peggy said, tartly.

* * *

Luckily for his sanity, Steve reflected, the debrief had been short. What he'd heard had been more than enough to send him reeling, though.

_"We don't know much, even now,"_ Peggy had said. _"The little information that exists is heavily guarded. What I could find suggested strongly that there is some kind of artifact that is making possible the endless stream of Axis soldiers and reserves we've been seeing. Anyone with half a tactical bone in their body knows that it would make sense for the critical space outposts and land fronts to be well-defended, but there are far too many troops even in the more remote sectors. They exceed the projected troop numbers the War Office gave us by more than half."_

The lack of information about the artifact in question was worrying. How could they counter something when they didn't know how it worked, what it did, or what it looked like?

Fury had looked grim and stubbed out his ever present cheroot to catch their eyes, one by one. _"I don't give a damn what it takes. I'm sendin' you back out tomorrow. Find that artifact and get it out of Nazi hands, yesterday!"_

The only clue they had to go on was a minor shift in the radio traffic, and even that was very vague. Peggy had pointed out a change that the intelligence men had reported weeks ago, though the only reason they had, was that they were required to report anything they noticed, no matter how small.

Peggy had pointed out that the lack of normal traffic was as much a signal that something was up as too much, or the wrong sort. _"Director, if you were going to hide something that was absolutely critical to your war effort, and hide it in plain sight, where would you do it? In a very well traveled sector where any moron could trip over it, or in a remote one where it's easier to keep an eye on the ships coming and going? Intel points to a large number of Axis transport ships passing into the sector, and not leaving. They may still be there. And we lost a lot of our intelligence personnel in the neighboring sectors at around the same time."_

Fury had nodded and sent them on their way.

Now, here they were, in the metaphorical backwoods. There was even less out here than in the border sectors or the disputed ones. It was a part of space of the sort that only smugglers and pirates tended to call home. The Ganymede quadrant was no-man’s land, on the very edge of the Axis territory. Beyond that, there was nothing but space that no one wanted, because there weren’t nothing worth a damn in it and a lot of black in between.

Steve, drawing on his experience as a tactician, was of the opinion that whatever they were looking for -- be it a military outpost, a ship large enough to house sufficient defenses for something like the artifact they were trying to retrieve, or a research station -- would be well-hidden.

The artifact itself was kept secret enough that only those with the highest security clearances had access to it. Security around the object was likely to be a small group of elite soldiers: the Axis equivalent of his own Howling Commandos. They would be armed to the teeth, with tactical capability and combat training well beyond that offered to their normal front-line units. Whoever was keeping an eye on the artifact definitely bought into the axiom that two men could keep a secret, if one was dead.

Before they'd entered the sector, they'd set their ship to run silently in a bid to keep their odds of being detected as low as possible. Their transponder was off, as were the radio and nav-radar. Even their IR proximity sensors were disengaged. Anything that was likely to broadcast a signal or attempt to ping another ship was disabled. They were practically flying blind, without their instruments.

Steve could feel the tension radiating off of Bucky thanks to their vulnerability, though Peggy seemed as calm as she had been at HQ.

In a very real way, the next two hours would determine how their mission went.


	8. Chapter 8

"Movement on the horizon," Bucky reported. "Looks like 'bout six ships. Positioned on our 2 o'clock low, and their formation suggests large transports. I can't make out what model they are from here, but I don't think they're friendlies. Judging by their vector, wherever they came from ought to be almost directly in front of us. It's either got some kind of camouflage or too far away to spot."

"Wait," Steve held up a hand as he spoke, looking like he desperately wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You're saying that those transport ships are moving out of the sector _now_?"

Bucky shrugged at him, knowing Steve was feeling the tactical landscape shifting under his feet. "I calls 'em as I sees 'em," he replied.

"They're shipping reinforcements out of this sector?" Peggy breathed. "We have to get word back to the Director the instant we're not radio silent any longer. Where are they even getting the men?"

"Some sort of duplicating tech, maybe? Fast-batch cloning? Nothing good, that's for sure." Bucky retorted. "Anyways, we can't stop those transports. Best we can do is stop the next batch."

"Yeah?" Steve challenged him, "how do you plan to do that?"

"You're the man with the plan, Steve," Bucky said, leaning back in his seat with his hands laced behind his head. “The Howling Commandos first rule of Space Combat is that the best solution is always just nuke the site from orbit. Best way to be sure. Just ask Dernier.”

“Yes,” Peggy snapped back, “I’m certain that would be a very effective tactic if we had any idea what we were shooting down, or the destructive capabilities of the item in question. But at least if you destroy it and spontaneously create a new black hole right on the edge of our galaxy, we’ll all die free of Nazi control. Along with the rest of the world.”

“So, what, you think we need to go in there and take a look?” Bucky asked. He was just running his mouth, like he always did, but it wasn't like his mouth was really checking in with his brain, because Peggy was leaning over Steve's shoulder to look at the situation map and watching the curve of that dame’s derriere was some fine amounts of distraction. 

So, of course, that was when Steve decided to pay attention to the bullshit that was coming straight out of Bucky’s mouth.

"Well, Fury wants us to get that artifact for him anyway," Steve replied, clearly trying his damnedest to finagle a way to do just that. "We haven't been seen yet, so let's see just what we can do."

Bucky groaned, not bothering to bite it back. Why, why had he said that? Because of course Steve thought they should go take a look. And not just they, generic they, someone on the Allies side, but specifically they, Steve and Bucky and Peggy, with a handful of guns and one stupid anachronism of a shield between them, should try to sneak up on a whole damn research station to see what was going on.

"Steve," he tried again, foregoing title, rank, and all formality, "don't be an idiot."

Peggy snorted. "It might be too late for that, Sergeant."

Steve just grinned at them both, his usual irrepressible optimism buoying him. "You're both being too conservative. Those troop transports are leaving, and they're in a hurry. If we're careful they won't spot us, and that means all we have to deal with is a skeleton crew and possibly a small group of commandos."

"Let's wait for them to get out of the sector, then," Bucky challenged the point, "if you're so sure we won't be detected."

"Buck, you know as well as I do that stealth never lasts long." Steve replied, unrepentant.

Bucky scrubbed at his face with his hands.

Peggy gave him a sympathetic look. "Definitely too late," she quipped. "Well, Captain, let's hear a cohesive plan, then. We don't know anything about the layout of the station, and won't until we're aboard it." He shrugged at her and got an eloquent raised eyebrow in reply. "I'm serious, Captain."

"You can't give me orders."

Peggy got right up in his face and Bucky thought he might be a little bit in love. "Nor you me. If you expect my assistance, you will explain what you want to do. Now." 

Miracle of miracles, Steve gave in. Bucky outright stared at his best friend, as Steve started talking, not sure whether he was dreaming.

"Bucky and I've still got those uniforms we used to get you out," he started, "and your clothes don't outright scream 'Allied spy', so we could attempt to bluff our way aboard or find an unwatched docking station and just stroll in. It's not like we're unarmed, so we could defend ourselves if we're spotted too soon."

Peggy thought that over. "That sounds workable, as long as we can get to the artifact before we're caught. If they find us out before that, we're at a big disadvantage," she replied. "We have no idea whether those uniforms will blend in at all here. The security will be tight, and if we're caught the problem is that we still won't know the station as well as they do, and we'll be vastly outnumbered."

"Buck?" Steve gave him a hopeful look.

Scanning the horizon and the scopes because neither of the others were paying a whit of attention to them at the moment, Bucky rolled his eyes at his friend. "I'm with Peggy on this one, punk. It's stupid and risky. We don't have any other real option if we're actually going to get that artifact, though, unless you want to just blow up the station."

"That doesn't solve the problem, sadly," Peggy agreed. "It just sends the problem flying out into space."

"Does that mean I've met your requirements, Agent 13?" Steve asked her, sounding like he thought he knew the answer. Bucky had to admit he didn't see many other options, himself, but it was still a damned fool idea.

Peggy looked like she agreed. She pursed her lips and made a dissatisfied sound. "It's a shit plan," she said, "but I suppose it's the best we can do."


	9. Chapter 9

Steve pulled on the uniform he'd hoped to discard after their last mission, and bit back a grimace. He really would have preferred almost any other way onto the station, but they would need time to find Fury's artifact, and having to fight their way in or out -- or worse, both -- was far from ideal.

The station was tiny, even compared to the small backwater outpost where they'd met Peggy, and did not look like it could possibly hold enough men to fill the seven transports they'd spotted leaving the area.

Steve had to admit privately that she and Bucky were right, too, in their assessment of the chances of success. Even if they managed to fool their opposition long enough to get onto the station using the German XIFF codes Peggy had told them to raise, this would be far from easy.

Her plan, building on his, called for them to play escort to her, while she posed as a scientist dispatched from the joint Heeres-Raumluftwaffen research team planetside. Her forged papers, provided by Fury for her previous mission, could be easily edited for their purposes, and ensured she required no specific uniform while traveling. 

Steve glanced over at her, where she sat at their on board terminal and tweaked her orders to suit. Her posture was almost regal, and only served to make her look like a queen displaced from her natural home.

"Coming up on the station in five," Bucky announced. "Are we ready?"

"Just about," Peggy answered, her tone just slightly distracted.

"Good. Steve, come take the stick while I straighten my uniform." Bucky stood and stepped aside, leaving the helm empty.

Steve hurriedly took his place and fumbled the headset on.

Somehow -- he barely remembered the conversation the moment it ended -- he got through initial contact with the docking station guards without any alarms going up, and then he was cautiously easing the ship into the dock.

The seals made contact and closed with a quiet thump and a hiss of air, and the three of them exchanged looks.

"Last chance to turn back," Bucky offered.

"Not likely," Steve told him. "Come on."

Peggy's forged and carefully edited orders got them past the men keeping watch and into the tiny research station itself. One guard, whom they couldn't politely get rid of, showed them into what passed for the administrative office, so that Peggy could get proper IDs for the station.

The whole time, Steve felt edgy and had to force his expression calm. He could see Bucky felt the same, too, by the subtle tension in his friend's shoulders. Peggy was in her element, though, waiting patiently for the paperwork to clear and trusting in Fury's people and her own abilities. Her expression was just the right mix of impatience and ennui, making her look like she'd done this hundreds of times.

It was good enough that Steve believed her, for all that he was pretty sure it wasn't true.

Eventually, she was cleared, and, at Peggy's request since the two of them were her escort, they were billeted in the station's barracks overnight, scheduled to leave bright and early in the morning.

"<Thank you,>" Peggy told the corporal manning the desk with a polite smile, "<I appreciate your help.>"

"<It's no trouble, ma'am,>" he replied, suddenly seeming almost painfully young to Steve, "<Would you like me to see you to your quarters?>"

"<That won't be necessary, as my escort is still here. But if you have any recommendations as far as the food in the mess hall is concerned, I'll happily take them.>" 

The corporal, who'd gotten a very disappointed look the moment Peggy turned down his offer of assistance, brightened again. "<Well, ma'am,>" he told her. "<As much as I hate to say it, the cooks we get out here are doing the best they can. We simply don't get a lot of fancy food rations. They come up with some outlandish sounding combinations, sometimes, but the food usually tastes fine, and we appreciate the variety.>"

Peggy's smile turned a bit warmer. "<I see. Thank you for your advice. I believe I will retire now, and rest. The trip out here has left me feeling rather exhausted.>"

"<Of course, ma'am,>" the corporal nodded. "<If you have any more questions, I would be happy to help.>"

"<Come along, then,>" she said, catching Steve's eyes and then Bucky's. "<I'd like to go get myself settled in.>"

Steve fell in behind her without a word, and Bucky did the same.

The corridors they walked through were narrow and just about high enough for a tall man not to have to worry about hitting his head on the bulkheads periodically placed along their length. This was a station designed to be as difficult to fight in or out of or to blow holes in. The bulkheads, which had hatches in them that could be sealed with a hand wheel, would allow any breach in the station's hull to be easily contained, and so too any enemies caught between them.

At the end of the corridor they found two sets of living quarters, both apparently assigned to the scientists living aboard. Beyond lay a large barracks, and an entrance to what seemed to be a mustering ground.

Based on the signs posted on the wall, the labs lay off to their left, near the center of the station, and the mess hall was just opposite them.

Peggy, pro that she was, didn't even twitch at the revelation that their goal lay so close, leading the way to her assigned quarters instead and gesturing that they should enter. As the only female scientist on the station, Peggy rated her own quarters, and took full advantage of having a bit of privacy.

Once the door was closed and tightly shut behind them, she spoke quietly. "<Go put your bags down in your quarters. Now that I've said I want to rest, I can't leave this room for half an hour or so. After that time, I will go to the mess hall. Meet me there.>"

Bucky nodded. Steve found himself hesitating. "<That's not enough time to do it,>" he replied, carefully avoiding explicitly saying anything about their plans.

"<That's enough time to do a tour of the station and find out what's where,>" Peggy retorted. "<Scout the place out and report back to me over dinner.>"

"<Come on,>" Bucky said, putting a hand on his shoulder and steering Steve back toward the door, "<it wouldn't do for rumours to start over exactly what we were in here for. Let's go look around.>"

Steve grumbled wordlessly under his breath at the insinuation, but acceded. The longer they could go without drawing attention, including doing anything that caused jealousy or shock, the better.


	10. Chapter 10

It didn't take them long to map out the rest of the station, including the lab most likely to contain what they were after. The only other spaces aboard included a bathing facility, a small refrigerated storage room for the mess hall kitchen, and an assembly hall.

Five minutes after they'd left Peggy's quarters, they were done with their short tour, and Steve debated what to do.

"<I can see you thinking too hard, buddy,>" Bucky told him with a chuckle. "<You could stand a shower. Go clean up, so that you look presentable for dinner. I think I will follow Ms. Mueller's example and get a little sleep. Come wake me when you finish up.>"

Steve was pretty sure that wouldn't keep him occupied for long, but he nodded along anyway, since they were still out in the open. He didn't doubt their voices carried a long way in these corridors. "<That's not a bad idea.>"

He had to force himself to take his time, shaving carefully and washing his hair three times, before he dried himself off and pulled his uniform back on. It looked less than crisp, but there was nothing to be done about that. He had no spare, and no way to press this one.

Rather to Steve's surprise, when he checked the time afterwards, he realised he was almost punctual. He had just over three minutes to find Bucky and get back to the mess hall to meet Peggy.

Bucky came awake with an irritated, somewhat plaintive rumble of sound, but gamely sat up, rubbing at his eyes. "<Time's it?>"

"<Time for dinner,>" Steve said, realizing he didn't know what time the station kept. He had yet to spot a clock anywhere. They were probably in the public spaces like the mess hall, he decided. "<You ready?>"

"<No, but you'll just drag me along anyway.>" Bucky stood, neatening the covers on his bed, and pulled his uniform back on. Steve took a moment to study his friend. Bucky was attractive, there was no denying that. And, after this mission, Steve admitted to himself, he would probably give in, if Bucky asked again. The combination of the physical appeal, close friendship, and Bucky's repeated offers were wearing down his will to resist, to hold to the rules.

The Commandos wouldn't care, and Steve didn't much care if Fury found out. His biggest worry was still for Bucky, but even Steve's stubbornness had limits in the face of something he wanted.

Bucky pulled on his uniform jacket with a few deft movements, and pulled Steve's thoughts back to the mission at hand. "<Let's do this thing,>" he muttered under his breath.

Steve smirked at him. "<We're having dinner with a lovely lady, not facing down a firing squad.>"

* * *

Forty five minutes later, Steve had to wonder whether his comment about the firing squad had been premature. They'd gotten as far as getting Peggy into the lab and standing watch outside while she poked around, before alarms started ringing. He and Bucky had about jumped out of their skins when the loud sounds began reverberating through the station.

Before they could decide to break down the lab door to get to Peggy, it opened and she stood there, seeming to glow from within. "Inside the lab, quickly!"

Bucky obeyed without arguing. For his part, Steve didn't know what she hoped to accomplish by putting them into a room with no obvious exits, but the corridor hatches were closing and sealing on either side of them anyway. "I hope you know what you're doing," he muttered.

Peggy rolled her eyes at him. "Not a clue. But you brought us in here without a goddamned plan, Rogers, you have no room to criticize. Now get inside!"

"Do as the lady says, Steve," Bucky put in. "Have a little faith."

Peggy waited for Steve to duck into the lab and shut the door behind him with a final-sounding thump. It sealed and Peggy gave Bucky a lingering once-over. "You're just angling after more than dinner," she replied. "Let's not put too much of a veneer on your motivations."

Reaching into the pocket of her borrowed laboratory gear, she pulled out a glowing blue cube about the size of Steve's fist. He couldn't help but stare at it. The blue glow was almost hypnotic. "What... is that?"

"That," Peggy told him with a very satisfied note in her voice that Steve suddenly wanted to hear under very different circumstances, "is the artifact we came here to steal, and our ticket out of this station."

"Uh," Bucky looked skeptical and glanced at the door of the lab nervously. "How?"

In mute answer, Peggy held the artifact up and stared at it. The glow lighting her up from inside seemed to intensify, and an answering aura lit up the air around the cube. It made the air feel like it was tingling, and sent a chill up Steve's spine. Bucky made a surprised sound in the back of his throat and the tension in the room rose even farther. 

The bulkhead doors in the corridor thunked open a beat later, and Steve heard surprised shouts outside the lab door. Peggy smirked and the edges of the lab door went white hot for a moment. The smell of ozone filled the air, almost strong enough to make him choke on his next breath, and he stared at Peggy in a mix of awe and frustration.

"You welded the door shut?" Bucky asked incredulously. "How the hell are we getting out now?"

"Have a little faith," Steve shot back at his friend, for all that he was thinking the same thing.

In answer, Peggy simply smiled and what Steve saw next almost made him doubt his own sanity. A strange blue-tinged tear opened in the air in front of them and on the far side a view of SHIELD HQ came into view, slightly wavery, as though they were looking at it through a layer of water.

A moment later, the view flickered, and Steve briefly caught a glimpse of what looked like a very futuristic city, before it steadied on HQ again.

"Come on, I can't hold it for long," Peggy said, her voice echoing and almost doubled. "The Tesseract calls to its owner."


	11. Chapter 11

Bucky groaned, his eyes squeezed shut. Falling a few meters onto his face was bad enough. Having Steve land on top of him just hurt. 

Peggy made a pained sound off to his left. "That was rather more painful than I expected."

Her voice was back to normal, Bucky noted, relieved. "Steve, get the hell off me," he grumbled, "you're heavy."

Steve sat up, and Bucky opened his eyes. They were surrounded by bright summer sunlight, and... "Peggy? I hate to say this, but we're not in Kansas anymore."

Steve, one hand to the side of his head, pushed himself to his feet looked around. Gravel crunched under his boots, as he shaded his eyes with his other hand. "I... I think we're in New York," he said, stunning the hell out of Bucky.

"This ain't New York."

"Sure it is," Steve retorted. "That's the Rockefeller Building over there. And the Empire State Building. Hell, I can see Lady Liberty, herself."

Before Bucky could say a word in reply, a high pitched whine made him tense. "Steve, I think we have --" A bright red and gold lacquered suit of armour flew up over the edge of the building's roof and Bucky cut himself off mid-sentence. "-- incoming." He finished a bit lamely. "Who the fuck are you?" He called out to the new figure, which was drifting down through the air to stand in front of them, its hands raised threateningly.

"I should be asking you that," the newcomer replied. "What the hell are you doing on top of my tower looking like Captain America cosplayers who think he fought in space? And how the hell did you get up here? Roof access is restricted."

Steve stepped forward and Bucky sighed silently, bracing himself to finish whatever new fight his friend managed to start.

"How do you know that name," he demanded. "That's Top Secret."

Bucky got the distinct impression whoever wore that suit of armour had just rolled his eyes. Somehow he suspected that if they got through this conversation, he might like this guy. "Steve," he put in, "just tell him. I'm pretty sure it won't matter."

The statement got him what he thought was a considering look. "Tell me what?"

Bucky had very rarely found a verbal challenge worth backing down from. "That we're not playing anything," he replied. "That lunkhead is Captain America, and we were on a mission that went sideways. Now, who are you?"

"Okay," the armour's pilot said, drawing out the first syllable. "Either you're absolutely fucknuts crazy and have been living under a rock for the last three and a half decades, or you're the real deal."

"Oh, we're real alright," Peggy snapped, "and we'd prefer to get home."

"So, next question. That energy that spiked when you showed up is still showing up on my sensors. What is it?"

"So Top Secret you'd have to wait five years to get clearance from Director Fury to even know this mission happened," Steve said. "Try again."

"Fury? Director Eyepatch is involved in this?"

Bucky snorted. Steve ignored him. "He is, and if you expect any more information, you'll have to go through him. Good luck with that. He's home and we're not."

"So you're bizarro-SHIELD?"

Steve simply stared him down, implacably.

Bucky wanted to know something, though. "You know the Director?"

The guy in the armour snorted. "For my sins. He's not my favourite person at the moment."

"So you gonna tell us who you are, now?" Bucky prodded at him.

"Wait, you really don't know? I thought you were kidding." There was a short pause, and then the guy shrugged. The expressionless helmet he wore opened up and folded back, looking like something straight out of a science fiction pulp.

Bucky stared. Those features looked--

"Tony Stark. Or, Iron Man, when I'm in the suit."

Peggy sniffed. "It figures that you'd be a Stark."

"I'll let that pass, 'cause you're from out of town." He turned, walking across the gravel of the rooftop, and delicately opened the roof access door that Bucky hadn't noted until that moment, thanks to his disorientation and distraction. "Come on. We're going somewhere more secure, and then you're going to tell me everything. If anything is similar here and wherever or whenever you're from, you'll know my clearances are at least as high as yours."

"What I know," Peggy returned, "is that you're just as ridiculous as your old man."

Stark made an offended sound. "I'm nothing like him."

"Well I don't know about you," Bucky interjected, "but I want something to eat. The food on that station was terrible and I haven't had a real New York pizza in years."

Stark laughed, hearing that. "Come on, then," he replied, stepping through the roof access door, "If it'll get me the story of how you got here, I'll buy you a hundred pizzas."

Steve huffed at him. "If you think we're that easily bought--"

Bucky cut him off. "Shut up, Steve, and take the pizza."

"You are just a slave to your stomach, aren't you," Peggy quipped, watching him.

"It's been a long day, Pegs, and we're so far from home we're probably in another universe," he shot back, shivering as he followed Stark into the dim light of the stairwell, feeling the lack of exits -- and worse, the lack of intel -- keenly.

Having Peggy in front of him and Steve at his back was comforting, though. The two of them would have his back, if needed. He was pretty sure that wouldn't be a problem, but it was still a big jump to go from being acquainted with Stark's father to trusting the man himself.

Stark huffed at him. "You might be more right than you think. And what's your name anyway?"

"Forgetting your manners, jerk?" Steve teased him. "That's Bucky."

Stark seemed to hesitate for a fraction of a second between one step and the next, and then they were walking down a bright airy hallway, and Stark was speaking to someone. "J, do me a favor and get me some facial scans, would you? Let's get a comparison going, here. And order one of everything from that place on 49th."

"Very well, sir," a disembodied voice answered in tones that might have stepped right out of his memories of home. This voice sounded just like Stark's -- no, Howard's batman, Jarvis. "And your guests' security level?"

"Start 'em off with green," Stark answered, "We can decide whether to change it later."

"Facial scans and archived photographs confirm the identities of Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, and Agent Carter. Reliability assessed as 98%."


	12. Chapter 12

Steve looked up at the ceiling. "Gonna introduce yourself?" He asked.

Stark grinned. "Go on, J."

"I am JARVIS, Captain," the voice replied simply. "I assist Mr. Stark in his development lab and run the rest of the Tower's electronic functions."

"Not going to come out to greet us properly?" Peggy put in, looking vaguely intrigued.

"I do not possess a physical form with which to so do, Ms. Carter," JARVIS told her. "As the nearest approximation would be the armour Sir wears, one might argue that I have already done so."

Bucky had to shake his head. "This day keeps getting weirder. We gonna get food made out of light beams next?"

"Nah, but if you want a hologram, I can provide," Stark riposted, grinning broadly.

* * *

By the time the food arrived, Peggy had relaxed slightly, apparently won over more by the incorporeal JARVIS than by Stark himself, and Steve had asked the man in question every question about this time and place that he could think of.

The answers had been dizzying.

In this world, there had been no Raumluftwaffe, no Space Corps. The whole war had been fought on terra firma, and it had been a lot bloodier than they could have imagined. It had also happened some seventy years ago, and ended with Steve taking a nose dive into the Arctic Ocean, and Bucky falling to his death in the Alps.

Stark had backed up his story with the promised holograms and enough photos and film reel footage that they couldn't gainsay him. The photos, Bucky privately thought could have been faked, with the exception of the one of Steve before Erskine had gotten hands on him. The reels, though. Those had hit home in a way the photos hadn't.

Bucky suppressed a shudder at the thought. He was pretty sure that little tidbit about his own death would feature in his nightmares for a while.

Peggy, on the other hand, had apparently done very well for herself in the world, and done what she could to make up for Howard's inattention to his family.

It was clear to him now why Stark hadn't believed them at first when they'd given their names.

The arrival of the pizza had made for a welcome distraction from those heavy thoughts, and resulted in a rather comical argument between Steve and Stark, who'd started insisting on being called Tony soon after Steve had gotten comfortable enough to argue with him.

"You, Rogers, are a heathen." Tony was saying, his voice not loud but intense. "You dare scoff at the pineapple pizza?"

"Pineapple doesn't belong on pizza," Steve shot back, apparently just as invested, much to Peggy's obvious amusement. "Nor do salmon, or anchovies, or tofu, whatever the hell that is."

"I don't mind the tofu, actually," Peggy interjected, just to egg Steve on.

"It doesn't taste like anything!" Steve objected. "How can you say you like it when it just tastes like paper?"

Bucky sniggered at him. "You're a fine one to talk, Steve. Your ma always usedta boil everything. All of it was bland as potatoes afterward."

It took them a while to try everything, and a large portion of the pizza got put away in Stark's obscenely large refrigerator, but once they were all satisfied, their semi-willing host offered, "There're more than enough rooms for you to stay the night, and some spare pajamas in each of them. Well, I don't know if they'll go over Rogers' ridiculous shoulders, but I can fix that by tomorrow. And you won't get far trying to find a hotel that will rent you a room without an ID or a credit card."

Peggy stretched. "That's generous of you."

"And in the morning," Tony added, "you're telling me how you got here."

Bucky still wasn't totally convinced that Tony had the clearances he claimed to, but the fact that he had all of those photos and film reels in his possession was telling. No one without clearance would have even known that half of those reels existed. "Sleep sounds like a good idea," he agreed. "Where are these rooms?"

JARVIS was the one to answer. "If you would follow the tracklighting, I will direct you, Sergeant."

Evidently satisfied that his duties as host were done with, Tony nodded. "If you need anything that isn't immediately available, ask JARVIS," he said, "anything that requires authorization will go by me anyway."

Feeling distinctly like he'd been dismissed, Bucky watched Tony disappear into the nearby elevator, whose car was waiting for him and whose doors opened at his approach.

Steve stepped up beside him. "He's quite a character."

"That's putting it mildly," Peggy agreed. "But let's not delay too much. I, for one, would prefer to put on clothes I haven't been wearing for over a day cycle, even if they are borrowed pyjamas."

"Of course, Ms. Carter," JARVIS replied, "If you would proceed down the hallway to your left...?"


	13. Chapter 13

Steve woke with a start the next morning, sitting bolt upright with a gasp and not sure where he was. His bed sure as hell wasn't this soft and obscenely luxurious, and the last thing he remembered was--

"Captain?" A voice he didn't immediately recognise delicately asked, "Are you present?"

He looked around wildly for a moment, then it fell into place. Taking deep breaths in an attempt to let the sudden jolt of adrenaline bleed off, Steve scrubbed at his face with his hands. "More or less," he muttered.

"Might I suggest a shower, then?" JARVIS' voice was surprisingly calming, and Steve finally managed to take a breath without feeling like he was about to come out of his skin.

Allowing himself a moment to miss home and his Commandos, Steve let himself fall back onto the bed with an arm over his face. If he hadn't had Bucky and Peggy here with him, the sheer loss would probably have been overwhelming.

"Captain?" JARVIS prodded at him verbally.

"Guess that's not a bad idea," Steve conceded on a quiet sigh and threw back the covers.

"I took the liberty of ordering some spare clothing in the correct size," JARVIS added. "You will find it waiting in the en-suite bathroom."

He wasn't sure how he felt about Stark effectively buying him clothes, but anything was better than putting that uniform back on. "Thanks."

* * *

Feeling clean and presentable, for all that the provided clothes were decidedly weird to wear, Steve dared leave his guest room.

"Sergeant Barnes and Agent Carter are having breakfast in the common room," JARVIS told him in what was clearly a hint. Steve was beginning to suspect that JARVIS frequently had to nag Stark into eating.

As he approached, the pair of familiar voices became audible, and Steve felt some tension deep in his gut loosen a little. 

"-- least the grub is top notch," Bucky was saying.

Peggy huffed at him. "What did you expect from a Stark? Ours does nothing by half measures, either."

"The beds are too soft, though," Steve put in as he stepped into the room.

"You too, huh?" Bucky gave him a knowing look. "Never thought I'd miss those hard bunks aboard ship, but, well."

"Strange, what you miss once you don't have it any longer," Peggy agreed. "Then again, some things are obvious. I think I could kill for a good Breakfast tea. I never found any while I was off-planet."

"That could easily be arranged, Agent Carter," JARVIS offered. "Do you have a preference as to brand?"

Peggy smiled. "Surprise me."

When she turned back to Steve, looking very pleased, the strength of his own reaction to her expression caught him off guard. Shoving it aside as best he could, Steve turned to the adjoining kitchen instead. "I think I'd rather have a cup of Joe."

"Plenty of that, Steve," Bucky informed him, "and not a lot else. JARVIS tells me that Stark lives off the stuff and the occasional take-out order."

"Don't listen to him," Peggy said, giving him a wry look. "Barnes is exaggerating, as usual."

Steve tuned out Bucky's protests, shaking his head at his friend's antics, and set about finding himself a plate and piling it high with the variety of foods that were indeed laid out on the counter. The coffee waited at the end of the buffet.

Bucky joined him there, his plate in hand, as he filled his plate a second time.

When they left the kitchen, Bucky was carefully juggling two mugs of coffee and his plate. He handed one mug to Peggy before he settled himself back in his chair. "Eat, Steve," he commanded, "and we'll catch you up on what we've been discussing."

"We made a few deductions last night about what happened, you'll remember," Peggy started.

Steve nodded.

"Well, it's likely that the Tesseract chose this place for a reason, even if we don't know what that is," she went on. "And that it could send us home."

"The problem is," Bucky picked up the thread, "that we have no guarantee that it would work right. Or at all. Don't want to be stranded in space if it puts us back where that station was."

"So what you're saying," Steve asked, swallowing a bite of fruit that suddenly felt like lead on his tongue, "is that we're stuck here?"

Bucky shrugged. "For now. Stark might be able to help us, or know someone who could."

"If you're willing to trust him," Peggy said with a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. "He's more or less convinced me of his sincerity, and JARVIS has told us a little bit about Stark's history, but something tells me that your friend is more skeptical, Sergeant."

Steve raised an eyebrow at her. "You're willing to make that choice based on our first meeting, which lasted a total of an hour, and the word of a computer that categorically refuses to betray him?"

"First impressions and gut instinct are powerful things, Captain. As an Operative, I've learned to trust in them. As such, I am also willing to trust in Stark."

"He isn't trying to deceive us, Steve. And we've been left more or less unsupervised in what amounts to his home." Bucky nodded. "That's a big olive branch. Hell, it might be the whole tree. Our Stark was never big on trust, and this one clearly is just as paranoid. Look around you. How many people have access to this area, JARVIS?"

"The three of you, Sergeant, Sir, and Ms. Potts. And myself, of course." The AI answered without hesitation. “And I would point out that this level of security was adopted for several very good reasons, two years ago. It was not implemented specifically on your arrival."

The piece of information there that caught Steve's attention was not the one he suspected Bucky had hoped for. "And who's Ms. Potts?"

A photograph appeared in the air in front of him, and Steve jumped. JARVIS didn't mention his reaction, though Bucky and Peggy sniggered at him. "Ms. Potts," the AI said evenly, as Steve made note of determined blue eyes and fiery red hair, "is the current CEO of Stark Industries, and the only person with full security clearance for the entirety of the building."

"We're gettin' side-tracked," Bucky pulled Steve away from that line of questioning. "What we need is to decide what to do next, not to go information gathering. Do we," he paused, drawing a deep breath, "attempt to get home despite the hurdles and the good chance that it'll only get us killed if we try? Or stay here and try to make new lives for ourselves?"

Peggy hesitated, biting at her lower lip. "It took all of my will and strength to get us here. Trying to get home, with the Tesseract fighting to stay here, will not end well. I say we ask Stark for advice."

"Bucky?"

"I'm with Peggy. We'd have a better chance askin' for help than trying to muddle through on our own, not knowing the first thing about how this artifact works, or whether gettin' home is even possible."

Steve stared down at his empty plate for a long moment before he spoke. "Alright," he conceded. "We'll do it your way. No point in getting ourselves killed in a hurry. I hate leaving the rest of the team in the lurch, though."

Peggy stood and put a hand on his shoulder, making him look up at her in surprise. "Steve," she said, "none of us is that pleased with the idea of being stranded here, but consider this: our mission succeeded. The Germans no longer have the cube, their endless reinforcements, or a way to simply overwhelm SHIELD. Even if we can't get back, the odds that the Axis forces can win are drastically lower. If it comes to that, someone else can take up your mantle. They might not be as good at it as you were, but there are other elite commando units, including the rest of the Howling Commandos you led. We have done our duty to the extreme, if we cannot find a way back, effectively dying for our cause."

That almost made it hurt worse.

_The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants._ Steve felt his hands clench into tight fists as the words of the quote seemed to ring in the air, unsaid, as Peggy fell silent. The thing was… Thomas Jefferson may have had a very valid point, but there was only so much blood a man could spill, and Steve was starting to think he might have reached his limit.

Forcing his hands to uncurl, Steve gritted out, "I know."


	14. Chapter 14

Much later that afternoon, as they sat together in the common area, working out how to navigate the internet under JARVIS' tutelage, Stark finally made his next appearance.

He looked haggard, as though he'd worked through the night, and he was accompanied by the dame they'd seen in the photograph.

Bucky stood, the moment they came into view, stepping out of the elevator, and Steve followed suit.

"-- can't believe you tried to keep this a secret, Tony," Ms. Potts was scolding their erstwhile host, and Bucky had to bite back a grin.

"Pep," Stark tried, "Pepper, I'm still not sure I believe it, myself."

"No excuse." She turned to survey the room, regal as Peggy at her best, and Bucky immediately decided he liked this dame. "Well, Tony, aren't you going to introduce us?"

Stark stared blankly at her for an instant before he managed to pull himself together. "Fine, Pepper. Those are Captain Steve Rogers, Sergeant Bucky Barnes, and Agent Peggy Carter, fresh off a mission they say was ongoing in May of 1944, and in space. Gentlemen and lady, this is my CEO Ms. Potts."

Pepper stepped over to Peggy and offered a hand. "Pleasure to meet you," she offered, "Tony tells me you three are looking for a way home. Wherever that is."

"That is the idea," Peggy agreed, "but we are aware it may not be possible."

Ms. Potts nodded, looking sympathetic. "I can't claim to have the first idea what you're feeling or going through, but if I can assist, please don't hesitate."

"Ma'am," Bucky put in, "that's very generous of you, but unless you can find us someone who knows how magic and multiple universes work, that might as well be an empty offer right now."

"Bucky!" Steve hissed at his friend.

Ms. Potts looked unfazed, though. "Sergeant Barnes, I take it."

Bucky nodded.

"I'll allow that you're upset about the possibility that you will not be able to go back to your friends and family," she riposted, voice cool as ice, "but do not presume to think you know what I am not capable of."

She turned to Steve, who made sure to keep his mouth shut. "Ms. Potts," he offered her a hand. She took it, her grip firmer than he would have expected, and added. "I don't envy you the task of keeping him in line, Captain."

Peggy huffed. "They balance one another in many ways," she offered, "but not where smart decisions are concerned."

Steve made a face. "Peggy, under the circumstances--"

"I'm aware," Peggy interrupted him. "Take Barnes and Stark and find something to do."

Stark made a despairing sound. "Come on, Cap," he said, turning for the elevator and beating a strategic retreat without bothering to protest. "No point in arguing with Peggy when she gets that tone of voice. If you want my input on how to get home, I'll need more information on how you got here in the first place."

Wondering how Stark knew that, Steve followed him, mystified. Bucky was close on his heels, and Steve found that comforting as always. Once the elevator doors had closed and the car was descending, Steve dared ask. "How do you know Peggy so well already?"

Bucky tensed, but waited for the reply.

Stark drew a deep breath and visibly steeled himself. "The same way I knew who you were, and who Barnes was, when I found you on my roof. Dad showed me all the reels of you two that he ever managed to get his hands on. I inherited them a while back. Peggy was in a few of them. And she was a close family friend. Still is, really, but she doesn't remember much, these days."

Oh.

That sounded like a touchy emotional subject. Carefully sidestepping it, Steve changed the topic. "And what do you know about other universes, then?"

"If you'd asked me that yesterday I would have said it was a pipe dream Reed Richards came up with on opioid painkillers."

Bucky snorted. "And now?"

The reaction got a grin out of Stark, and he relaxed, on safer conversational ground again. "Now I've done some reading and some calculations," he replied. "In _theory_ it's possible that other universes exist. Travel between them would take a completely ridiculous amount of power."

Steve stared. "Wait," he said, disbelieving, "you're claiming you made yourself an expert in the field overnight?"

Stark outright laughed at him. "No one else here who could," he pointed out, "and I've done the reading. So, let's see what we can do. First I'll need to know how you got here. All the details."

Steve exchanged a look with his best friend.

Bucky shrugged before he spoke. "Even if we do tell him, it won't matter, since we'll be taking the thing back with us." 

"You have a point. Alright, Stark, you're on."

The look Stark got made him seem to light up from somewhere deep inside, and Steve recognized the same fire that Howard always had when his imagination was well and truly caught.

"Call me Tony. Stark was my father," Stark demanded, as the elevator doors slid smoothly open before him and he stepped through them without missing a beat. "Come on in and let's do this. J? You up?"

"For you, Sir," the AI replied, "always."


	15. Chapter 15

To Bucky's surprise, Stark accepted the existence of the Tesseract and their use of the thing to jump universes quite easily, apparently classifying it as the energy source they used.

As to why it had brought them here, specifically, they were no nearer an answer. Stark -- no, Tony, Bucky corrected himself. Tony didn't seem to think that was important, either. Bucky wasn't so sure that was the right assumption to make, since they had no way of identifying their home, so that they could make the jump back.

Tony also still wanted to interrogate Peggy on how exactly she'd opened that portal, and a closer look at the Tesseract itself.

On the other hand, they were all in agreement about the information leaking. Tony had ordered JARVIS to lock down all recordings of their discussion, and secure any further work he did on this project with the highest security settings.

As though conjured by the thought that they might be wanted, Peggy and Ms. Potts had appeared at the door of Tony's workshop.

Tony had brightened further on seeing them and turned to grin broadly at them. "Pep! What brings you to my lair?"

Ms. Potts gave him a long level look. "You've been holed up in here for hours, and it's time for dinner."

Tony winced, but recovered quickly. "Why didn't you say something before? Come on, Cap, Sarge. We're gonna introduce you to one of the wonders of the modern world."

"What would that be?" Steve watched him warily.

Bucky had to agree with the sentiment.

Peggy rolled her eyes at them both, not bothering to hide the expression, then turned to their grinning host. "Stark, don't even think about it."

Pepper deftly looped her arm through Tony's and turned him toward the elevator before he could protest. "We've already ordered pizza. Don't worry about it," she told him. "You can traumatize your guests with exotic foods tomorrow."

"Pizza's always good," Tony gave in with a shrug.

Steve followed the two of them into the elevator, and Bucky caught Peggy's eyes. He got a shake of her head in response. Shrugging back at her, Bucky leaned against the sidewall of the elevator car and watched the others, silently.

Steve was interrogating Tony about just what toppings he'd ordered, this time, and getting more appalled at each one that got added to the list -- less from the idea that people put those things on pizza, Bucky suspected, and more because Peggy and Pepper had bought them a ridiculous number of pizzas. Again.

By the time the elevator doors slip open again, the smell of pizza had permeated the entirety of the large open plan living room Stark had built. Walking into the area made Bucky's stomach growl loudly.

Tony snickered at him. "No need to stand on ceremony. Eat."

Bucky dug in his heels just long enough for Peggy and Pepper to help themselves, then appropriated the first pizza box he could get his hands on and flipped it open as he settled on the long sofa next to Peggy. He saw Steve do much the same as Tony settled on the sofa next to Pepper and wrapped his arms around her rather than eating. It didn't take long for her to prod him into taking some pizza for himself, though, and something in Bucky relaxed at the sight.

At least the fella most likely to find a way to get them home was taken care of.

They ate in companionable silence, for the most part, with the quiet broken only by murmurs of conversation between Tony and Pepper. Steve was quietly focused on putting food in his gullet, reinforcing the fact that they'd accidentally missed out on lunch for their discussion with Tony.

What little discussion there was, after they'd finished eating and even Steve was lounging semi-comatose against Bucky's shoulder, was centered on meaningless topics.

It took some prodding to get Steve to his feet again, after that. But Bucky was nothing if not stubborn, and he knew better than to let Steve fall asleep out here. Peggy wore an amused smirk as she stood to follow them. Bucky let her make their excuses as he steered Steve out of the large room and down the correct path of corridors and stairs to reach their borrowed quarters.

When they did, Peggy simply followed them inside, as though that wasn't one of the most daring moves she could have made. As though she weren't missing a chaperone. 

Bucky let go of Steve and turned to watch her carefully. "Not that I'd ever want to kick you out, Peggy," he said trying to keep his voice level, "but isn't it a bit--"

"I'll decide that, thanks," she interrupted him, making Steve look up from his sleepy contemplation of his hands. "We're not at home, where those things are watched and criticised by anyone who matters."

"She has a point, Bucky," he put in. "What was it you wanted?"

"We need to make a decision." Peggy eyed them both in a way that hinted at promising things. "First: I rather suspect we will be stuck here indefinitely. What should we do about that?"

Bucky huffed. "We're more or less unemployable."

"Stark Industries would take us on," she countered the statement. "Or SHIELD."

"Sounds like you've already thought this out," Steve said slowly. "Gonna let us in on the plan?"

Peggy gave him a half-rueful little smile. "It contains a lot of assumptions. We can discuss the details later. There's a second, more important, point that we need to discuss."

"What would that be?" Bucky raised an eyebrow at her.

"We need to sort out this relationship, because it is driving me crazy not knowing what the hell to think."

"... relationship?" Steve sounded stunned.

"You and Barnes are so clearly head over heels for each other it's almost disgustingly sweet. But it's obvious you haven't gotten your acts together, or you wouldn't be trying so awkwardly to flirt with me." Peggy gave them both an arch look. "So, talk."


	16. Chapter 16

Steve stared at Peggy for a long moment. Had he given himself away so easily?

Bucky snorted, breaking the silence, then laughed. "Well, yeah," he replied, "that's hardly anything new. But I've been thinking maybe it's time I gave him up. He keeps turning me down."

That cut to the bone, despite -- or perhaps because of -- the truth behind it. Steve flinched, hard. "Buck, you know why. I couldn't risk you like that."

Peggy raised an eloquent eyebrow at them both. "And why is that, exactly?"

"Steve thinks it'd get me mustered out," Bucky said bluntly. "And that I'd get lynched or something once I was back in New York."

"Well, that won't be a problem if we're stuck here," she pointed out in response.

"Maybe not," Bucky agreed with a half-nod, "but I'm tired of dashing myself against that particularly stubborn brick wall."

"Bucky," Steve choked out before words failed him and he stood there in silence, groping after a sentence that wouldn't form.

"What, Steve?" His friend was suddenly in his space, nose-to-nose with him and looking furious. "I should just forget exactly how much it hurt to hear you turn me down every time? I should forget just how much I hated watching you laugh and joke and wishing we could have that happiness together? I should," he paused, a dangerous edge to his tone, "forget that you insisted on following protocol over following your own judgement?"

Steve felt flayed open and raw. "I don't expect you to forget any of those things," he rasped, then cleared his throat and ignored whatever it was that was pricking at his eyes. "I insisted on protocol because it hurt me to say no. I had to laugh and joke to get through those days when all I wanted was to drag you off somewhere private and I desperately needed the distraction. If what you want is to call it quits? I won't stop you. But that is the opposite of what I want."

To his surprise, Peggy nodded, looking satisfied. "Now that that's out in the open. If you'll excuse me..."

"Don't you go anywhere," Bucky put in immediately. "I may not be over that moron and his bright blue tights, but you ain't nobody to sneeze at."

Peggy sniffed at him. "I don't condone or assist in adultery."

"Steve," Bucky prompted without looking away from Peggy, "I've seen you watching her. You interested, punk?"

Steve had thought the universe had been through throwing curve balls at him when it had dumped them here... wherever here was. Clearly he'd been wrong. "Are you suggesting what I think you are?"

"Shut up and tell Peggy what you think of her. She already knows I think she's stunning and more competent than Fury."

"You've never outright said so," Peggy pointed out. "And that has nothing to do with wanting a relationship."

Bucky smirked at her. "It does when those things are both turn-ons for me. But you already know I like you for more than your looks or your ability to kill a man at twenty paces."

Steve took a breath and tried to marshal his thoughts. It _sounded_ like Bucky was trying to convince Peggy to stay. Hell, it sounded like Bucky wanted to try to convince her of a lot more than that, and despite everything that had already transpired, despite all the emotion they'd already weathered, Steve kind of wanted this next storm he could see looming on the horizon. He'd forced himself to give up on actually having Bucky years ago and settled for having a best friend. In the past few days, though, he'd definitely felt himself falling fast and hard for Peggy.

Since the conversation had hit a brief expectant pause as they waited for him to speak, Steve jumped in with both feet, looking down at his hands again briefly before straightening his back and squaring his shoulders. "I've never been any good at talking about these kinds of things," he said. He paused and bit at his lip feeling the nerves light up his stomach worse than he'd felt for any speech he'd ever had to give. "Peggy, Buck might mean more to me than family, but I don't want to see you walk away from me, either."

Peggy eyed them both, her body language a bit uncertain. "Let me get this straight," she said slowly. "You both are so deeply wrapped up in one another that no one else exists, but you aren't in a relationship. And you both are interested in me." She paused and Bucky nodded. After a beat, Steve did too, swallowing. Peggy watched them for another moment, then went on. "Just to make sure this is crystal clear, then. Are you both saying you want to start a relationship with each other _and with me_?"

Steve's mouth went a little dry at the thought. That idea was wonderful, exhilarating... and kind of terrifying.

"If that were to be an option," Peggy asked, her tone carefully level, "how exactly do you envision that working?"

Bucky shrugged. "Never attempted anything like this before, so I'll probably screw it up at least a few times. And I'm pretty sure Steve hasn't bothered to go on a date in his life that I didn't force him into. But I don't see why it would have to be any different from two people? Ain't talking and going on dates the important parts?"

Pursing her lips, Peggy demanded, "What dates do you think we can go on without money, identification, or any idea what's in this city?"

Steve thought Peggy sounded more curious than critical. "We don't have to go anywhere to have a date," he pointed out. "One of the things about this future is that sitting together and watching films is considered a date, even if you don't leave your apartment. I know you both heard Ms. Potts suggest exactly that to Tony, earlier."

The subtle smirk that tugged at Peggy's lips at that was oh-so-promising.

Bucky caught her eyes. "How many dates are we looking at, before we can get to the fun part of the relationship?"

"I'll let you know when we get there." Peggy's smirk was downright wicked, suddenly. "Something tells me this will be very entertaining, even if it doesn't last."


	17. Chapter 17

The next few days passed in a blur of Science and legalese, as both Tony and his CEO did their best to work both sides of the plan. Tony was still working at the problem of sending them home without using the tesseract, while his girl was doing what she could to get their identities in order, should they be stuck here.

The three of them passed those days kicking around more ideas on what to do should they truly have to stay. Peggy was all in favor of joining this universe's SHIELD, and doing what good they could, regardless of where they were.

For his part, Steve wasn't entirely convinced that was the best use of their combined talents, but he did find he liked the idea of doing that in a sense of tribute to the friends they had left behind.

Bucky thought they were both being a bit hasty and hadn't hesitated to say so.

Their dates, on the other hand had been going pretty well, as far as Steve could tell. They'd been making sure to spend time together more or less on a nightly basis, getting to know one another properly.

Well. He and Bucky had gotten to know Peggy, anyway, and vice versa. They learned that her favorite thing to do when she had a quiet moment was to curl up with a book and a cup of delicate Darjeeling tea. They learned that she had loved gardening with her grandmother as a young girl, and that her favorite flowers had always been the lilac bushes that had grown so large and smelled so lovely.

She in turn learned that Bucky had an inexplicable fondness for his guns for all that he despised killing, and that he'd really have preferred to finish his hitch and then go back to school, rather than keep fighting -- which Steve privately thought that might have been the reason for his reluctance to join SHIELD -- and that Steve had once aspired to be an artist. When she'd heard that, she'd insisted that he sketch her something.

Steve's embarrassment had been mingled with a hint of pleasure and pride. He'd squirmed and protested, but he'd known both of them could tell it wasn't truly heartfelt. The following night, Peggy had shown up with the supplies he'd complained about missing and Steve had given in.

He'd made her describe where her grandmother had kept cut flowers, insisting on every detail she could dredge out of her memory, and then filled in the vase with her favorite lilacs. She'd very nearly been in tears by the time he'd handed her the sketch pad. Bucky had ribbed them both about that until they'd turned on him. Steve had been glad of the distraction it offered.

That evening after they'd eaten, together as was becoming their habit, Peggy had stood and caught Steve's eyes.

He'd stood too, the manners his mother had drilled into him sending him to his feet, and heard the scrape of Bucky's chair as his friend followed suit.

Before he could offer to walk her back to her rooms, though, Peggy stepped over to him, her heels seeming to click more loudly on the floor than usual, and insinuated herself deftly into his personal space.

"Peg?" Steve suspected he sounded as surprised as he felt.

"Shut up, Steve." She told him, then leaned in to kiss him.

His hands flew up of their own accord to land on her waist as Bucky laughed. Probably at the expression on his face, Steve thought in the single moment he had to process what was happening. Then Peggy's hands were on his jaw, guiding him into the right position, and he stopped paying attention to Bucky.

The kiss was emotional, for all that it stayed fairly chaste. Peggy felt like she was trying pour all her nostalgia and her longing into him. The waxy, slightly sticky feeling of her lipstick was strange at first, but the way she pressed herself against him, from the lush softness of her breasts down to the narrow waist that he found so enticing and the round curve of her hips and behind. He was surprised by the warmth of her, and just how strongly he reacted to having her so close.

"So does that mean you're interested in taking the next step?" Bucky asked as he stepped up behind Peggy and put his hands over Steve's.

Peggy broke the kiss to reply, though she didn't back away in the slightest. "That depends on you."

Bucky huffed, the sound almost a chuckle. "Darlin'," he said, his drawl coming out, "I've been all for experimentin' in bed, right from the start."

The thought made Steve bite at his lip. "Peggy?"

His voice came out a bit breathy and bordering on pleading.

"You, Steve, are far sweeter than I deserve." Peggy smiled at him, then turned just enough in his arms to face Bucky. "And you, scoundrel, are pushing your luck."

Bucky grinned at her, entirely unoffended by the mild insult, and slid his hands up until they were flirting with the closure of her brassiere through her clothing. "If I didn't," he countered, "I'd never get anywhere."

Quick as a striking snake, Peggy turned to face him, snatched up Bucky's hands, and pinned them behind his back. It left them nose to nose, sharing air, and Steve could see Bucky's pupils go wide.

"And," Bucky added swallowing, "when the reward is possibly getting a chance with a dame like you, I could be persuaded to risk a lot."

That put a pleased look on Peggy's face. Steve could just about see it from where he stood, more or less watching over her shoulder. A beat later, she leaned in to kiss Bucky as well, and that kiss quickly turned heated. Bucky wasn't one to simply accept the touches he was given, being far more experienced than Steve. He leaned into the kiss and turned it into what seemed more like a skirmish than a loving caress.

Both of them seemed to enjoy it, though.

Peggy made a quiet choked sound and gave back as good as she got. She shifted between them, her hips twitching and rolling, and Steve groaned.

He had felt more than just a faint twitch of interest when Peggy had kissed him, but now his pants were starting to get quite uncomfortable as he hardened further. Indulging himself, Steve leaned in to kiss at Peggy's neck, leaving a trail of touches from the nape up to the hollow behind her right ear.

"Bedroom, Rogers," Peggy ordered, breaking the kiss with Bucky to let her head fall back to rest on his shoulder. "Now."


	18. Chapter 18

It took mere seconds for them to reach the bedroom, but the mood shifted in that short distance. Bucky watched Steve go awkward the moment it sank in that this was actually happening.

Peggy, on the other hand, had no such qualms. "Strip down and get on the bed, Barnes," she demanded, staring at him hungrily.

Bucky could see the way her breathing had deepened, and her eyes had gone dark to match Steve's. This was going to be _good_. Without replying verbally, Bucky caught her eyes and smirked. He brought his hands slowly to the button and fly of his pants, undoing them, but didn't push them down. Instead he untucked his shirt and worked his way up the column of buttons holding it shut. He opened them one by one, lingering over each, and enjoying the way Steve couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the skin that was being revealed, for all that he'd seen it before.

Peggy was staring too.

"Like what you see?" Bucky asked her, knowing that his voice would give away his satisfaction, and undid the last button at his throat. It left his shirt gaping wide open and his bare chest on display, since he hadn't bothered with an undershirt.

"And if I do?" Peggy rose to the challenge, as he'd hoped, stepping up to him and putting her hands on his skin. "Then what?"

"That's up to you," he shot back, not moving to take his clothes the rest of the way off.

In response, Peggy pushed his shirt off his shoulders and reached for his pants. Steve made a strange high sound that bore no resemblance to speech, then fell silent again. Bucky's pants were next; they got unceremoniously shoved down over his hips -- not that that took much -- and fell to pool around his ankles. Bucky stepped out of them and tugged his hands free of his shirt's sleeves.

"Now," Peggy reminded him as she tugged at the waistband of his underwear, "take these off and lie down."

Grinning at her, Bucky complied. "What're you gonna to do, Carter?"

"I," she told him as she pulled a foil packet out of her pocket, "am going to ride you until I come. And you are going to hold back."

The blunt words sent a shudder through Bucky and got his voice caught in his throat.

"And what about me?" Steve asked, a rasp in his voice that Bucky had never heard before.

A glance over at Steve proved that he was hard enough that those tight pants he had worn for their date had to be very uncomfortable. Peggy hummed, then made a decision. "Take those pants off and make yourself at home," she offered, as though it wasn't Bucky's bedroom they'd ended up in but her own. "Hands behind your head, Barnes."

"Not going to use my name, sweetheart?"

"I might, if you show me a good time," Peggy replied, and damned if he didn't thrill to the challenge in her voice.

"How'm I supposed'ta do that without my hands?"

Peggy gave him a long lingering once-over, her eyes openly staying on his hard dick for a long second before she smirked. "I'm sure a resourceful man like you can find a way."

She tossed the little foil packet to land on his torso, and began working the buttons of her own clothing open. By the time her hands had made their way from the collar button of her blouse down to the ones near her navel, Bucky was biting his lip to hold back a groan. She was just too gorgeous. A real stunner, with curves he knew she knew he wanted to get his hands on almost desperately. Bucky suspected that was why she was making him keep them behind his head.

He also knew better than to ignore that order, so early on.

In fact. Bucky had to bite his lip harder to keep from smirking too much and giving away his plan. He caught Steve's eyes. The lust and anticipation burning there was enough to send a shiver up Bucky's spine, and convinced him his plan would work.

After all, if he couldn't use his hands...

Well, Peggy had said nothing about Steve's.

Looking back up at Peggy, who had shed the rest of her clothes and was standing at the side of the bed, anticipating, Bucky raised an eyebrow and quipped. "Well, mount up, then."

Picking the foil packet back up and tearing it open, Peggy turned the condom over in her hands a couple of times before she put it on him. The sensation almost made Bucky come out of his skin, he was so worked up. He tensed all over and his breath got caught in his throat as he arched up into the touch.

"Bit on edge, are you?" Peggy asked as she went to one knee on the bed then gracefully settled herself astride his thighs.

"Little bit," he admitted, bending his knees and shifting Peggy forward until the hollow between her legs was pressing his cock against his body and teasing some more with the warmth and wetness he could feel pressed against him. "But waitin' ain't gonna help that."

One of Peggy's delicate-looking hands came down to run along the underside of his cock, her fingertips tracing along the ridges and veins. The other went around behind her to toy with his balls, rolling them in her hand.

Bucky's hands clenched in his hair and his eyes fell shut as he groaned shamelessly. "Oh, hell, Peg, please. Come on."

Laughing, clearly enjoying his rising need for more, Peggy shifted her weight. Her ankles hooked over his legs just above the knee, pinning him down, and she raised herself up using her lovely muscled thighs. The move made her skin brush against his in intriguing ways, and he couldn't help the way his hips jerked up to follow her, missing the pressure and warmth of her body the moment it wasn't pressed against him anymore.

"Peggy," he tried to demand, knowing he wouldn't last much longer if he had to keep his hands off her and himself, "don't tease."

Knowing he was at her mercy until he decided to buck the rules was a surprising turn on. Peggy was in charge, by unspoken agreement. Bucky panted for air as he watched her, using the sting of his scalp to keep himself more or less present.

Peggy paused, wearing her authority like a mantle and somehow seeing his desperation for the enjoyment it was, poised above him and waited for a bare moment. The sight made Steve mutter something nonsensical about toes, and the tiny portion of Bucky that was still thinking halfway rationally watched Peggy file away that piece of information for later. "You ready, Barnes?" She taunted him. "If you come before I do, I won't be happy."

"If you don't follow through on your promise, darlin'," Bucky found the words to egg her on, "I might come before you even take me inside you."

"Well we can't have that, now, can we." Peggy reached down to steady his dick with her hand and dropped her hips ever so painstakingly slowly, moaning as she sheathed him.

The sound, brimming with relief and pleasure, was nearly enough to set Bucky off, and the sensation of being wrapped in what felt like searing heat only made it better. He bucked up into her, getting a low groan out of her, as her iron self-control finally slipped a little. She kept him pinned to the bed with her bodyweight, forcing him still as they both adjusted to the feeling.

Beyond words, Bucky felt his legs tense and his toes curl as Peggy leaned back and planted her hands on his shins, pinning him further. He was skirting too close to the edge of coming for what Peggy wanted. He felt like he would come after the first three thrusts.

Steve was suddenly standing by the side of the bed looking awkward, at that, wanting something but not sure what to do. By the time Bucky had processed that, Peggy had smiled at Steve and caught his eyes. "Touch yourself," she told him. "Take the edge off."

The words somehow got Steve to blush down to his collarbones despite the situation they were collectively in. "But--"

"Would you prefer I did it?" Peggy asked him archly, and Steve blushed a little harder.

"I just wanted to..." Steve visibly struggled with words for a moment, "to see."

Peggy let her head fall back, sending her curls brushing against her shoulder blades, and laughed quietly as she stared up at Steve. "Oh, well if that's all that's bothering you," she purred, "that's easily enough solved. Of course you can watch. Sit next to Barnes, and put your head against the headboard."

Still bright red, Steve did as she suggested, and settled gingerly next to Bucky's shoulder. The hungry look in Steve's eyes as he took in just how wrecked Bucky already was, was not helping Bucky hold back. Bucky had to bite at his lip and pull in a long shuddering breath through his nose as he felt a sharp tug in the pit of his stomach.

Peggy made an appreciative sound. "Mmmm," she hummed with a smile that said she knew exactly how that would affect him. "Yes, that's nice."

Steve's eyes on him were serving to make him want to move, to show off just how good he was, and he had a feeling Peggy could tell. She used the leverage she had to lift her hips just enough that the motion pulled her muscles tight around him.

When she let them fall again, gravity pulling them back together in a sharp explosion of sensation, Bucky made sure to angle his hips just so. He caught Steve's eyes, and held them. They had been accused by the Howlies of having a telepathic connection before, the way they could read one anothers' intentions bordering on the uncanny.

Bucky wanted it to work again here. If he had to speak, it would ruin the surprise.

Steve stared back at him for a moment, then smirked.

Without a word, he shifted his weight and stood, taking the two steps down the length of the bed so that he could sit on the mattress at Bucky's feet instead. Peggy watched him move, but didn't stop her steady movements. Once he was settled there, Steve reached out. He always had been pretty fearless, Bucky reflected, and that clearly was just as true in bed as it was in battle.

Steve's hands came down on her hips, and Peggy made another sound of pleasure that would have made Bucky's knees weak if he'd been standing, then slid up her sides and around her rib cage to cup her ample breasts.

The touch stopped their hypnotic sway and bounce, but the almost pained groan that Steve's hands wrung out of Peggy and the way she clenched down on Bucky in response were more than enough to make up for that. 

"Steve," she gasped, gulping for air as her grip on Bucky's calves went vice-like.

Encouraged by that response, Steve grinned, pleased, and ducked just head to kiss his way up her neck the way he'd seen Bucky do. The punk had to have been taking notes. Peggy made a high keening sound and let go of Bucky's right leg to grab one of Steve's hands and bring it down between her legs.

Steve's broad strong fingers brushed against him where they were joined, and Bucky couldn't stop the whine that the touch punched out of him. Peggy's reaction was spectacular, though. She twisted and writhed when Steve found just the right spot, albeit with her help, and then came with a hitching cry that seemed to ring in the air long afterward.

The way her muscles convulsed around him was too much for Bucky, and he followed her over the edge. The world faded away and his senses went hazy as his muscles shuddered and jerked. 

As he drifted down to earth, Bucky forced his hands to unclench and stretched them, flexing his fingers. They were stiff and bordering on sore after the length of time they had spent fisted behind his head.

When he refocused on Peggy and Steve, both of them were smirking down at him.

"Are you two always so... connected?" Peggy asked when the silence drew out a little.

"Bucky and I have known each other for -- what is it now? -- Fifteen years?" Steve replied, sounding slightly strained.

"Closer to twenty," Bucky disagreed, finally realizing that Steve hadn't come yet. "Need some help with that?"

Peggy huffed at him, her expression somewhere between amused and fond. "I'd wager you know the answer to that, Bucky."

"Maybe I want to hear him say it, Peg." He riposted lazily, his hands coming down to rest on her behind and lift her up off his softening cock.

The slick slide out sent a few shivers through Bucky, and he saw them echoed in Peggy. "Well, I hope yer happy," he quipped at her. "You wrung every ounce of energy right outta me."

The wicked chuckle he got in reply was all kinds of promising. "That was the idea. Now be a dear and make some room on the bed."

It took nearly all the strength he had left, but he managed to comply, forcing his tired muscles into some semblance of movement. Once he was settled, half leaning against the wall, he carefully stripped off the condom and knotted it.

Steve watched him, looking equal parts turned on and nervous. "So now what?"

"Now," Peggy purred, "you lie down and we have some more fun."


	19. Chapter 19

For the first time he could remember since getting the serum, Steve woke up feeling drained. He was also a lot warmer than he was used to, bracketed as he was by his lovers.

The feeling that swept through him left him grinning giddily up at the ceiling, and he carefully restrained the urge to stretch languidly, wanting to enjoy the lazy moment.

By the time they'd been tired enough to call a halt, Bucky and Peggy had found a lot of creative ways to make him come. He'd been wrung completely dry after the -- Steve had to think back carefully to be at all sure -- he thought it had been the fifth time. Maybe. He'd cried uncle at that point, anyway. After the third, the sensations had blurred together somewhat.

After that kind of workout, apparently, even the serum wasn't enough to let him completely recover before he woke up.

Peggy had insisted they shower clean and eat something light before they slept -- in Steve's bed rather than Bucky's -- and in retrospect, Steve had to agree that had been the correct move, for all that he'd much rather have stayed sprawled on the mattress at the time. Without those calories, he might even have woken up sore.

That, naturally, led Steve to thoughts of exactly what they had gotten up to that would have left him sore, and he had to bite his lip. Peggy rubbing herself along the length of his cock and using her bodyweight to create the friction that made it feel so good. Bucky giving in to the temptation to lick him clean when he hit his peak, staring up at Peggy, and the come nearly hit his pecs.

Bucky inside him and leaving love bites on Peggy's neck while she rode him wantonly. 

Steve was pretty sure that he'd come at least twice during that round, and long before either of his lovers had.

The memories were pleasant ones, and made a ball of warmth gather behind his sternum. It was true that, if they really were stuck here, he'd lost his way home to the rest of his makeshift family, but he'd gotten to keep at least a piece of it. Possibly the most important one.

On the other hand, they were also making him hard, and he wasn't sure whether to wake his lovers. After all, if he was tired, they were probably still worn out.

Maddeningly, the thin soft cotton of the sheet they'd slept under was rubbing at his cock in a way that did nothing better than to emphasise that he needed more. Steve bit back the sound that wanted to escape him as he shifted his hips and the sheet rubbed against him, seeming to wrap around him and caress his whole length.

He knew from experience that waiting it out wouldn't work. Even the slight bit of sensation from the sheet would keep him hard until it drove him mad. But, he asked himself as a visceral shiver went through him, should he try to deal with the problem without getting up? Could he do it without waking the others?

Bucky, who slept lightly, would definitely wake up if Steve tried to get out of the bed. Peggy likely would, too, with the way that she was half-sprawled across his torso.

Biting at his lip again, Steve gave in.

Taking a deep steadying breath and reminding himself that both of his bedmates had seen everything -- hell, they'd touched and licked most of it, too -- Steve carefully reached down with his left hand and rubbed at the head of his cock.

"Mmm, Steve," Bucky mumbled and made a quiet sound that approximated longing. Still dead asleep, he shifted to hook one of his legs around Steve's left, tangling them together and pulling Steve's legs apart.

The sudden feeling of vulnerability -- of being exposed and watched, as he had been last night -- very nearly jerked a loud whine out of Steve. He had to bite his tongue viciously to hold it back, and paused for a second before he continued the light touches he was feeling daring enough to use, delicately sliding his fingers down until they rested around the base of his cock.

There was already a damp spot on the sheet, and Steve knew it would only grow. Ever since the serum, he'd gotten... messier.

He'd also gotten a lot needier. Once he got going, it took a lot to satisfy him. Once usually wasn't enough. While he'd been forced to turn Bucky down and frustrated, he'd pretty consistently had to get himself off at least twice in the shower before he could sleep.

And now, with Bucky in his arms, where both of them had wanted him, and Peggy watching over them both, Steve wasn't sure if the need would lessen or intensify.

Starting to stroke the sensitive skin, Steve took another deep breath and tried to keep his movements smooth and his muscles relaxed.

It was surprisingly difficult, but succeeding made everything better, somehow. 

Steve closed his eyes and let his grip on his cock tighten a fraction, drawing his hand up the length of heated skin and lingering just below the head, where the sensation reminded him of the way Bucky had teased him last night. 

When another hand joined his, Steve about came out of his skin, the surprise jolting his eyes open and making his grip tighten almost harshly.

Bucky grinned down at him. "Already up for more, are you?" he ducked his head to murmured into Steve's ear, his warm breath sending a shudder down Steve's spine. "I shoulda known you would be. All that endurance and only one outlet for it."

Peggy's arm tightened around him, and Steve couldn't help the way his head fell back to press against the pillows and his back arched.

Bucky's hand trailed down from its position just below Steve's to play with his balls.

Peggy made a delicate snuffling sound and stretched. "Well, well," she said, pleased, her voice husky and still thick with sleep, "this is a lovely sight to wake up to."

Bucky chuckled and slid down the length of Steve's body, shifting until his torso rested between Steve's thighs, holding him spread wide just by dint of the breadth of his shoulders. "You're up, Peggy," he quipped, licking a stripe all the way up Steve's dick from root to tip and humming appreciatively when Steve's hips jerked upwards. "I'll be a bit occupied with this."

Without wasting any time, Peggy leaned in to kiss him soundly, and Steve moaned into the touch when Bucky took the head of his cock into his mouth.

While he fought not to come immediately with the warm wetness of Bucky's mouth wrapped around him and Bucky's clever tongue pressing at him and Bucky's throat working against the head of his cock, Peggy worked to take him apart from the other end, kissing him like she wanted to climb inside him somehow, and pinching lightly at his skin. Her hands left little twinges of pain that mingled with the pleasure all over his chest and sides before she brought them up to flick at his nipples.

He'd discovered last night -- at Peggy's instigation -- that they were sensitive and sent strong shocks of pleasure through him, and now was no exception.

The feelings shuddered through him, sending him higher and higher, until he could take no more and came hard with a shout that Peggy swallowed, feeling some of it dribble down out of Bucky's mouth to trail down the length of his cock.

He relaxed onto the bed after what felt like a long time, his hips twitching with each aftershock that ran down his spine and breathing hard as Bucky continued to work the cock in his mouth in a clear bid to get another round out of him. He twitched and shuddered and moaned under the ministrations, all his muscles tense and his body shaking thanks to the oversensitivity and not sure whether he wanted more or wanted a chance to breathe.

Bucky's continued attention was working too. Peggy looked down at him a warm sort of awe in her eyes, and let Bucky tease him right back to readiness.

"My turn," she quipped, when Bucky finally pulled back enough to let Steve's cock fall out of his mouth and licked his lips.

Bucky chuckled at her and ducked his head to lick at the come that had escaped him as Steve panted for air. "And what about me?"

Peggy considered that for a bare moment, then handed him a condom. Steve wasn't quite sure what to think about that. "Get Steve ready. I intend to ride him until I come and then I want you to touch yourself until you come while you lick me clean with that talented tongue of yours."

Steve got the distinct impression that Bucky would have saluted if he'd thought he could get away with it. Judging by Peggy's smile, she knew it, too.

Before he could find the words to say anything for or against that plan -- not that he intended to object -- Peggy's hands came down on his skin again, resting against the fronts of his shoulders to steady herself as she settled herself. Steve's hands almost instinctively came up to rest on her slender waist, and then trailed up further to cup her ample breasts without conscious decision.

Peggy liked the touch though. She purred wordlessly, a pleased sound that seemed to rumble and roll in the back of her throat. "Mmm, yes, Steve, go on. Don't be shy."

Bucky's hands steadied his cock, not fully hard again yet, but recovered enough for another round, and slid the condom down over him deftly. The feeling sent a strong tug of want through his gut, and made his cock twitch in Bucky's hands.

As Bucky sniggered at him, enjoying the reaction to his touch, Peggy reached back to steady his cock and lowered herself down onto it, inch by inch. She moved slowly, savouring every moment of the smooth slide and the stretch, while Steve gritted his teeth against the urge to thrust up and hurry her along.

The harsh edge lent to the sensation by the lingering glow of his last orgasm and the hint of oversensitivity sharpened everything he felt, making everything seem twice as intense. 

When she was seated at last, Peggy didn't move immediately, savouring the moment.

Steve's patience ran out before hers did, and he took charge. Lifting her up a few inches, his hands on her behind, he held her steady and started moving, changing the angle just fractionally until he found the one she had shown him last night.

Bucky took advantage with a gleeful look on his face, bringing one hand around to slide down Peggy's belly and nestle between her legs, rubbing against her in just the right way to make her tighten around Steve with a keening whine. "Bucky!"

Her hands came up to tangle in Bucky's hair, where his chin rested on her shoulder, and pulled him tighter against her back.

The move made Bucky's cock slide teasingly between her butt cheeks, occasionally brushing against Steve's fingertips, and he couldn't help the way he tensed, losing the rhythm for a beat.

When he found it again, Bucky's free hand came around to pluck at one of Peggy's nipples as he set his teeth at the side of her neck and increased the pressure until Peggy gasped and came, her muscles clenching and fluttering around Steve. Gritting his teeth, he kept moving, keeping her riding the edge of the orgasm, and chased his own, letting himself loose the careful control he’d held to and follow the rhythm instinct demanded.

He came again, the force of it like a punch to the gut, curling around Peggy before he let himself fall back onto the bed to lie flat.

Bucky grinned at him, then pried Steve's fingers off Peggy. "C'mere," he coaxed her into moving. "Hands and knees. Go clean up, Steve."

Bucky considered her for a moment, the lassitude in her muscles and shook his head. "Okay, nevermind. On your back, darlin'. That'll work better."

"I think you may be right," she replied and let herself sprawl out on her back.

Steve watched avidly as Bucky draped her legs over his shoulders and knelt, hoisting her up with one hand until he could comfortably reach what he wanted. It left her balanced on her shoulders and using her hands to find the leverage to balance. She crossed her legs at the ankles behind Bucky's back, and caught Bucky's eyes.

"Ready?" Bucky asked her, his smirk audible, for all that they couldn't see his face.

"Do it," Peggy demanded. "Now."

Given the explicit permission he sought, Bucky did as she wanted, lapping at her with little kittenish licks and savouring the experience. Peggy squirmed under the touches, her breath hitching, and let her eyes fall shut with a moan. "You are far too good at that."

Bucky laughed, the low sound sending a wave of goosebumps over her skin. Steve followed them with his hands.

A beat later, while Steve let his fingers linger in the hollow of Peggy's collarbone, Bucky started stroking the hard length of his own cock. He didn't tease or hold back, simply cleaning Peggy up with his tongue and working himself closer to coming as he did.

Steve let himself watch and enjoy the way Peggy twisted and shivered, unsure whether it was too much stimulation or not enough. Let himself watch Bucky make himself come with a loud moan, his face still buried between Peggy's legs.

When Bucky put Peggy back down on the mattress, he surveyed the mess they'd made of the bed and groaned. "We're gonna have a lot of laundry to do if we go through with this," he commented.

Peggy lazily swatted at him. "Your point?"


	20. Epilogue

Two months had passed since their precipitous arrival in New York. Steve looked around his room -- well, _their_ room, now -- and smiled to himself.

When Tony had found out about their relationship, the morning after they'd finally slept together, he'd made a lot of distressed noises about the love bites Bucky had left on Peggy's neck. All three of them had laughed at him, entirely unapologetic.

The following week, Tony had given up on trying to find a way to send them home without using the Tesseract. He'd agreed with them that they should only attempt to use it under dire circumstances, but there was no alternative that could provide enough power to initiate the transfer. At least, not yet. Maybe in ten years, Tony had told them; he had some ideas in the works.

Instead, he'd gifted them with [sets of gear that reminded Steve far too much of the designs that he'd been offered at the beginning of his service](http://ellebeesknees.tumblr.com/post/162217236157/lenadraws-the-last-of-my-contributions-for-the), when his superiors had wanted to wrap him up in the American flag and make him more of a dancing monkey than a field operative.

Peggy and Bucky had convinced him to try it on at least once, and Steve had eventually agreed. It pained him to admit that the gear was well designed and a lot stronger than it appeared. He'd decided to keep it, but he _definitely_ intended to make Tony paint it less gaudy colors.

Being identifiable to his team was one thing. Being a blatant target was another.

As though they'd been waiting for the opportune moment, shortly afterward SHIELD came knocking on Tony's door with an offer for the three of them.


End file.
